


Knight of the Mob

by mjb0613



Series: Born in the Knight Saga [2]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Crime, Dark Knight, Detective, Fast Pace, Gen, Minor Character Death, Original Character - Freeform, Sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-11
Updated: 2014-06-11
Packaged: 2018-02-04 06:53:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 32,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1769716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mjb0613/pseuds/mjb0613
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The sequel to Born in the Knight is here. Gotham City has been quiet for some time. But when the Falcone crime family and a man some call the Penguin stir things up, the Batman and James Gordon are called upon to save the city.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Knight of the Mob

Knight of the Mob

By:  
Matthew Barbier

Edited by:  
Kwamane Algee  
Becky Thevary

 

 

Based on characters of DC Comics and the mind of Bob Kane  
Who knew working two jobs, being a full time student and writing a book would be so difficult. While the quantity is less, the quality is more. For those of you who read these books, Enjoy.

Happy Holidays. 

 

 

 

I

“He’s done well since September, Carmine. I really don’t understand why you’re so worried about him.”  
  
“When I see someone and I don’t trust them, you’re gonna know. The kid has money and a name, so what? So does Bruce Wayne but you didn’t put him in a Black Mask did you?” the man called Carmine responded.  
  
The first man twirled his umbrella behind the desk in his office as he considered the man’s statement. It was a dimly lit room with a few lights that were near the end of their life cycle. Carmine Falcone sat across from him on the other side of the desk. There was one small window in the room and outside was a flashing sign that read ‘Iceberg Lounge’  
  
“Jeremiah came to us and asked if he could be a part of what we are. He has assets, including his last name. Has he proved himself? No, but he is making progress. We’ll see in the next few days. Now what about the plan to get inside the G.C.P.D?”  
  
Carmine looked at the birdlike face of the man sitting behind his desk. If it weren’t for the money and his ties to the underbelly of the city, he would probably smash the man’s monocle and break his beaked nose and not lose any sleep over it.  
  
“It’s in place Cobblepot. Unofficially, Mario is in line to be promoted next Wednesday.”  
  
Cobblepot nodded his approval then looked back at the muscular Italian man sitting across from him.  
  
“And Dent?”  
  
Carmine smiled a bit in the dimly lit room.  
  
“Don’t worry about Dent. Alberto is taking care of him.”

II

The Gotham Knights hockey team is on the large flat-screen television in the entertainment room of Wayne Manor. Sitting on the couch opposite the television is a muscular man with tamed black hair, beautiful brown eyes and a very handsome persona: Bruce Wayne.  
  
“Hooking! What the hell ref!” Bruce yells at the television, thinking it might actually help the Knights win.  
  
“Something tells me that isn’t going to work Master Bruce.” Said an older British voice that Bruce had known all his years.  
  
“It makes me feel better Alfred. Come on now. You know me better than that.”  
  
With a smile, Bruce’s oldest friend sits down beside him on the sofa and holds out his hand. Bruce takes his eyes off of the television for a moment to read what Alfred is holding out for him; a letter with the return address of:  
  
Dick Grayson  
Titan Tower  
Metropolis

III  
November 19  
  
Bruce,  
I know it’s only been two weeks since I wrote last time but I wanted to tell you what Mr. Queen has us doing now. Apparently too many of us were trying to be a one man team and not letting anyone help. Oliver sat us down on Monday and ripped us a new one. He said we as the Titans are a team of incredibly gifted kids and not everything can be done alone. I admit I was guilty of my fair share of ‘solo-ness’ but not as much as Oliver’s friend Arsenal. Roy would just take on solo missions, even when he was working with Mr. Queen (which is why I think he got sent here in the first place.) Anyway, the point is we’re becoming a much better team and we’re learning to work with each other so much more. I think it will really help when I get back and you let me go out with you…  
  
Since Thanksgiving is a week from tomorrow (today by the time you get this), I’ll be calling instead of writing. Plus stamps are freaking expensive. I wanted to come home but a bunch of us are going to stay here and try to cook. Cyborg and Arsenal can’t do anything so I’m hoping Starfire and I are capable. If not, we’re getting pizza!  
  
Anyway, I’ll stop rambling. I thought you’d like to know we’ve been working on team work and that it should help us when I get back…  
  
OH! I almost forgot… When are you coming up to take me to a Knights game here in Metropolis? I refuse to see a Lasers game. The team is bad but the fans are even worse! 

Talk to you soon!  
Robin  
  
IV

“Officer Edge, could you summon Mario in here for me?” the voice of Police Commissioner James Gordon called into the war room. Gordon looked the same as he always had with his square jaw and rectangular glasses that just seemed like they belonged on him. His face looked completely different without those glasses.  
  
Appearing in the doorway of Jim Gordon’s office was a tall and muscular Italian man with flowing black hair and a stunning smile. Gordon looked up and for the briefest of moments and thought he saw the face of organized crime in Gotham. Instead, it was his son.  
  
“Have a seat Mario.” Gordon said, indicating a vacant wooden chair across from his Mahogany wooded desk. Mario’s heavy footsteps echo through the quiet office as Gordon gets up and shuts the door leading in. As he approaches his desk, files on the Falcone family and unsolved crimes litter every inch of workspace he would have.  
  
“Mario, I want to promote you. I do.” Gordon began as he started cleaning up the files.  
  
“I’ve been looking over the files on your father, your family, crimes we think they’ve committed, etc. Yet I’ve found nothing with your specific name. Just your father’s and relatives. “  
  
“Commissioner, I’ve told you numerous times. I am not about that life. What my family does means nothing to me. I’ve tried to distance myself from them for years and I finally have. I became something they despise most: a cop.”  
  
When Gordon sat back down, he looked directly into the face of the heir to organized crime in Gotham. Here is he, waiting to be promoted to Lieutenant while his father has people working for banks and companies and even the G.C.P.D. Yet something in Gordon’s mind says Mario is different.  
  
After Gordon takes a drink of coffee, he hesitates then says “I’ll make the promotion official next Wednesday, once all the paperwork is done.”  
  
“Thank you sir. I swear to you I’m not like my family and this is the best chance I have of proving that.” Mario replied as he stood up and shook the hand of the police commissioner of Gotham City.  
  
Mario showed himself out of Gordon’s office and back to his desk across the war room, leaving Jim alone and wondering if he had just done the right thing.  
  
Meanwhile, back at the desk of Mario Falcone, elation and scheming is flying through the air. Instead of focusing on the paperwork in front of him which is in regards to a riot at Blackgate prison, he pulls out his cellphone and finds the contact listed at ‘Carmine/Dad’.  
  
He begins typing a text message making sure no one is looking over his shoulder. With a malevolent smile and perhaps a slight chuckle, he sends the message.  
  
“It’s official. Next Wednesday, I’m a G.C.P.D. police lieutenant.” 

V

Back in the dimly lit office of the Iceberg Lounge, Carmine Falcone is once again talking the man with the monocle, top hat and tuxedo.  
  
“Its official Cobblepot, Mario is getting the promotion. It was confirmed earlier, he just told me.” He waved the cellphone indicating the text message he received from his son.  
  
Cobblepot nodded his understanding without looking up from the papers on his desk.  
  
“When’s the shipment getting here? I have the right to know, since half of them are mine.”  
  
“I know half of them are yours, Carmine. The shipment gets in tomorrow night at Sionis’ North Shipping Docks. You don’t have anything to worry about; Jeremiah is in charge… I don’t want to hear you complain Carmine! Arkham asked to be a part of us and I don’t care if you trust him or not! He works for me, not you!”  
  
Carmine stood up from the chair in anger and walked over to the one window. Looking into the sky, he sees the symbol of a bat shining brightly into the night.  
  
“What about the Bat?” Carmine asked, indicating the symbol in the sky.  
  
Without hesitation, the penguin responded, “The Bat won’t be a problem. Let them shine their light. This city is going to be ours. They’re going to need every symbol of hope they can get. It’s just not gonna work.”  
  
VI

On the roof of the Gotham City Police Department, Jim Gordon sits and waits for the Batman. He looks up at the light in the sky and wonders if the Batman is actually good for the city. He’s a vigilante and a criminal. Yet he stands for good and justice. Perhaps Gordon can give him a chance too, just like Mario Falcone.  
  
“Why do I get myself into these situations?” Gordon wondered out loud as he went to turn off the spotlight, thinking the Batman wouldn’t show up.  
  
On the corner of the roof, a dark, pointy-eared figure is walking toward the police commissioner. Gordon takes a step back, still not entirely used to the dead silent appearances of a man in the shadows.  
  
“It’s been a while since we’ve had to use this!” Gordon calls out to the Batman as his figure is illuminated by the moonlight.  
  
In front of Gordon is a large muscular man dressed in a cape and gunship colored armor and a cowl covering every inch of his face except his mouth.  
  
“That’s not a bad thing. It’s allowed the both of us to get smaller criminals off of the streets.” Batman responded in his deep, gravelly voice.  
  
“Well I need a favor if you will.” Gordon says, crossing out the thought of asking a masked vigilante for a favor.  
  
“I don’t work for the police department Jim. You’re not going to send me around doing dirty work.”  
  
Gordon is a bit taken aback by the harshness and bitterness of the words but swallows his retort and explains his request in a calm manner.  
  
“I understand that. I don’t know why I’m even asking but I figured if anyone had the capability to do it, it would be you. You see, I’m promoting Mario Falcone to Lieutenant next Wednesday. I don’t fully trust this decision, but I feel it’s the right one.”  
  
The Batman remains silent when Gordon pauses in his monologue, perhaps hoping he would intervene.  
  
“Obviously, we both know the Falcones are the head of organized crime in Gotham.” Gordon continued.  
  
“Then why are you promoting the heir to the throne to almost one step below you?” Batman responds, trying to figure out where this conversation is going.  
  
“Because I think it’s the right decision damn it. I don’t trust him 100%, but my gut says I should.”  
  
“You want me to tail the Falcones to see if Mario is crooked, don’t you?” Batman asks, finally seeing into why Gordon summoned him here.  
  
“That’s exactly it. Like I said, I figured you’d have the capability to. And obviously he is a police officer so I can’t set another cop to tail him.”  
  
The Batman is silent for a while, considering his options. If he helps, he can get in closer with the G.C.P.D. If he doesn’t Gordon will not trust him much and put little faith into him as a good symbol. Once he makes his decision, he walks to the edge of the roof before turning around.  
  
“I’ll do it Jim. But know this, I don’t work for you. I’m here to do good, not trail a cop that you think is crooked. I understand the mob can be important but right now, they’re not doing anything that is hurting the city on a high level. Until then, I’m not following anyone on your orders.”  
  
With his last words, the Batman glides off into the night, leaving Jim Gordon looking awestruck as a few snowflakes begin to fall from the cloudy night sky.  
  
VII

The next day and exactly one week before Thanksgiving, Bruce is sitting at his giant computer in the hidden cave below his mansion. Alfred is standing at the table behind him, examining the dents and scratches on the Bat-Suit.  
  
“Perhaps you should take a few days off from being Batman?” Alfred says to Bruce while examining a good size scratch on the abdominal plate, likely from a large knife.  
  
Bruce turns away from his computer which has the address and records of all Falcones.  
  
“Alfred, I’ve been going out as the Batman every night since the summer. I’m doing fine. I need to do this in order to become what I need to be for this city.”  
  
“I understand that master Bruce but do you understand that your limits and Batman’s aren’t the same? Bruce Wayne has a life and an image. The Batman has his fists. I’m not saying stop, I’m saying take a break. Every night is a bit excessive. There is no bloody serial killer out there anymore. No more bandaged man trying to kill you. Just take it easy.”  
  
“Gotham has been quiet for too long Alfred. Sure I’ve gotten gangs disbanded and smaller criminals off the street. But something feels wrong. Something big is about to happen.”  
  
Feeling like nothing he said got through the thick skull of his friend, Alfred just sighs and walks over to the computer where Bruce is seated. Looking up he reads the names of three men called Carmine, Mario and Alberto Falcone. On another screen is a map to their house. In front of Bruce on the desk is one of the gloves from the suit.  
  
“I put in a microphone on the fingertips. It can pick up anything on the other side of any wall. All I have to do is touch it.” Bruce explained as Alfred picked up the glove.  
  
“Interesting, Master Bruce.” Alfred said as he turned the glove over in his hand. “What do you want me to do for you tonight then?”  
  
“I’ve run backgrounds on all three Falcones. I’m going to scope out their mansion. Watch the map and make sure I’m headed the right way. Watch the readings. The usual. I’ll let you know if anything changes.”  
  
With those words, Bruce walks over to the table and with his glove in hand, begins to suit up to complete the favor asked of him by James Gordon.

VIII

“I’ve seen your father a lot lately Alberto.” Oswald Cobblepot states as he looks across his desk to a young man.  
  
The man is very slender and frail. It appears he doesn’t get much sleep, no matter how hard he tries. He has a sense of class about him but that comes from his family; he’s earned nothing and never worked a day in his life. As Alberto Falcone shakes his long and greasy black hair from his black eyes and long face, he laughs.  
  
“I’ve seen a lot of him lately too, sir. I’m just honored he, and you I suppose, allowed me to be a part of this.”  
  
“You’re a Falcone. This is your life’s destiny. Rule the streets of Gotham. But in order to do that, we have to complete the business here today. I understand you found our man?”  
  
“Ah, yes sir. He’s arguably the best assassin in the world. Never missed his target. He’s right outside if you want to meet him.”  
  
“What’s his name before you go and fetch him?” Cobblepot asks.  
  
“Floyd Lawton.”  
  
IX  
The Falcone mansion roof is made completely of glass. Luckily, the white powder falling from the sky is not accumulating due to the unusually recent warm weather in Gotham City.  
  
Bruce is standing as still as possible on the edge of the roof, looking down into the house. He fears it’s too risky to walk across the glass, not only because it could break but one glance up by anyone below and his cover is blown. After standing near the sitting room with no one in sight, he takes a chance to walk across and view another room.  
  
On the other side of the house Bruce finds what he’s looking for. Two Italian men sitting at a very fancy Oak dinner table in the dining room. He recognizes one as Carmine Falcone. He has an older appearance than the younger boy who could only be a few years older than Dick. But now is the time to test the microphone attached to Bruce’s right hand.  
  
“…met with the Penguin today right Alberto?” Carmine asked the slender man sitting across from him.  
  
“Yeah, I did. He met Floyd and I suppose he gave him the job. He asked me to leave when I introduced them. So I came back here.”  
  
Carmine pours himself another glass of whatever is on the table next to him. Bruce thinks it is whiskey but from this height, it’s hard to tell.  
  
“I shouldn’t be here right now. I should be up north at the docks.”  
  
“What are you talking about?” Alberto asked, legitimately confused.  
  
“My share of the drugs are coming in tonight at the north Sionis shipping docks. He put his new pet in charge. I swear to God if my share is fucked up in any way, the Penguin will die.”  
  
At this point, the Falcone housekeepers appear from the kitchen carrying silver trays to the two men at the table. Bruce puts his hand to his ear to trigger the radio.  
“Alfred, change of plans.”  
  
“I figured as much sir. You’re heading to the shipping yard, aren’t you?”  
  
“Have the map ready for me when I get back to the Batmobile.”

X

Jeremiah Arkham is sitting on a cheap wooden desk inside of a break room near the Gotham Bay while Oswald Cobblepot’s men move boxes from a dark blue speed boat that just arrived to a freight truck that says ‘Laughter’ on the side. It was once used for a carnival.  
  
Jeremiah is thrilled that he got the chance to be in charge of such an important mission from Cobblepot. He doesn’t care what Carmine thinks because he knows Cobblepot’s secret plan.  
  
“I can’t wait for next week!” Arkham exclaims to himself as a knock on the window brings him back to reality.  
  
“We’re ready to go boss. Everything is loaded up.”  
  
Meanwhile, Bruce sits atop an old freight container watching men moving boxes from a boat to a truck. While the men finish up, Bruce prepares to follow them until something completely unexpected almost makes him fall off of the freight container.  
  
A man in a black mask just stepped out of the break room by the Bay and went took the driver seat of the truck.  
  
Bruce watches as the truck drives away, yet he is to dumb-founded to do anything about it. The man he just saw drive away in the truck was one he saw die in an explosion not long ago. Once he got his wits about him, the truck is long gone so there is only one thing to do: return to Gordon with the news.  
  
The Black Mask, Roman Sionis, is alive and working for someone called The Penguin.  
  
XI

As James Gordon gathers his pea coat and briefcase in his office, the snow begins to fall harder on the streets of Gotham City. He had been looking forward to getting home and spending a night with his family and helping his son and daughter with their homework. Instead, as he begins to leave, a knock on the window makes him turn swiftly and drop his briefcase. The silhouette of the Batman cast a shadow on the floor of Gordon’s office.  
  
Jim closes his office door and rushes over to the window. When he opens it, snow pours in onto the concrete floor of his office along with the Batman himself. The two men stand there silently waiting for the other to begin a conversation until Jim Gordon takes a seat at his desk, kicks his feet up and tells him to begin, thus skipping all formalities.  
  
“I did your favor Gordon. I followed the Falcones. Sorry for you but I didn’t find anything on Mario. He wasn’t home at the time I was there, but his father and brother were. They were talking about a shipment of drugs that arrived tonight. At the Sionis shipping docks.”  
  
Bruce waited for Gordon to respond to the beginning of his story but all he got was a look that implied he wanted the story to continue.  
  
“I didn’t bust the drug shipment. I figured that would be a job for the police. The problem with this story is who was in charge of the shipment tonight. It wasn’t any Falcone or anyone we know with a mob affiliation. It was the Black Mask, and he is working for someone called The Penguin.”  
  
Gordon is speechless after Bruce finished his story. So many thoughts raced through his head. Who is this Penguin? Did Mario know about the drugs? Why didn’t the Batman bust them and come in through the window? And the Black Mask is dead.  
  
“We saw Roman Sionis die. His body was examined here inside this building. It has to be an imposter. A copycat.”  
  
“I thought that too but it seemed eerily similar. Sionis had mob connections through his company. Now he’s overseeing a drug shipment that the Falcones knew about and working for this Penguin. I don’t get it. I’ll do the research. It’ll be faster than your detectives.”  
  
Tired of the thoughts swimming in his mind and the condescending tone the Batman has for the G.C.P.D, Gordon goes over to the window and opens in, allowing even more snow inside.  
  
“You go and do that. I’m going home. You let me know what you find but one thing here is certain. Roman Sionis’ body was burned to a crisp. He is not the one under the mask.”  
  
XII

In the snow covered alley behind the Iceberg Lounge the following day, Jeremiah Arkham arrives in a small moving company truck. Waiting by the grimy black door are Oswald Cobblepot in his tuxedo and Carmine Falcone in his business suit, who’s Lexus is parked a few feet away, awaiting the shipment in the truck.  
  
“Everything is here boss. Made sure of it last night before I dumped the circus truck. Wasn’t followed, no one knew anything. Smooth as Jameson Irish Whiskey.” Arkham explains when his feet hit the snowy pavement from the truck.  
  
“’At’s what I like to ‘ear.” Cobblepot responds then gives the black door three taps with his umbrella.  
  
From inside the club, four men wearing all black came out and went straight to the back of the truck. Carmine went to his Lexus and opened the truck and simply pointed for four boxes to be placed there. The workers obliged his request first, then began streaming the boxes into the club one by one like worker ants in a colony.  
  
“I met the assassin that Alberto hired.” Cobblepot explains to Carmine and Arkham as they watch the men at work.  
  
“What about him? You think he’s going to be the one?” Arkham asked as Carmine gave him a look of disgust.  
  
“I did research on this Floyd Lawton before I gave him the job.” Cobblepot explained. “He’s done work in other cities, and ‘e appears to never miss ‘is target.”  
  
“My son wouldn’t send you just anyone. He did his research too. I’m proud of him on this one. He’s really stepping up for this family.”  
  
The three men remain silent while Cobblepot lights up a style of British cigarette and takes a few drags from it.  
  
“I ‘ired ‘im and set a date already. Since Mario gets promoted next Wednesday, Lawton’s contract states Dent must be shot at the parade next Thursday. On Thanksgiving, Gotham will have no more, what’s the media call ‘im? ‘White light’.”

XIII

On that same dull and boring Friday afternoon, Lucius Fox stands in the boardroom of Wayne Enterprises and is leading a meeting on how this quarter’s stocks are shaping up. As he continues to give information in his soothing and mellow narrative tone, he notices someone half asleep in the very back of the meeting. It just so happens that same person’s name is on the roof of the building.  
  
“Tell you all what. Let’s call it a day. Go and enjoy your weekend. Get all you thanksgiving plans taken care of and gear up for a short and not very busy week. See you all on Monday.”  
  
As the board members of Wayne Enterprise begin to trickle out and leave for the weekend, Fox gathers his things and makes his way to the back of the boardroom. By this time, Bruce Wayne is almost completely asleep. It isn’t until Fox slams his briefcase on the table that Bruce comes around.  
  
“How many times will I have to wake you up with my briefcase, Mr. Wayne?” he asks with a pearly white smile on his aging ebony face.  
  
“Maybe your meetings shouldn’t be so boring Lucius. Perhaps I’d be more inclined to stay awake if they were interesting.” Bruce responds with an equal smile.  
  
“Or perhaps you’d be able to stay awake if you weren’t spending your nights away from home and on the streets so to speak.” Fox replied after a brief look around.  
  
Bruce just gives a slight laugh and yawns. He walks over to the window and sees the streets of Gotham that Lucius says he walks every night.  
  
“I actually need some help Lucius. Or advice I suppose you could say.”  
  
Fox followed Bruce to the window and looks around as well. It had finally stopped snowing that morning and Gotham City’s Department of Transportation must have set a record for quickest snow removal from the streets.  
  
“Unless you have another idea for the suit, I don’t know how I can be of assistance.”  
  
“The Black Mask was overlooking a drug shipment last night for the Falcones and someone called the Penguin. I froze when I saw him, almost to stunned to do anything. I let the truck with the drugs get away.”  
  
“You mean the Black Mask as in Roman Sionis?” Lucius asked with curiosity and confusion entering his voice.  
  
“The very same. I don’t know what to do. Commissioner Gordon swears he is dead and it’s a copycat. But where do I start looking? How will I ever know?”  
  
Lucius is quiet for a moment and seemed to be mulling over a few different trains of thought while looking out of the window. Finally, he is able to give Bruce probably the best advice he could at the time.  
  
“Bruce, you told me you saw Roman die in the explosion. If James Gordon says he is dead and you say you saw that happen, odds are the man is dead. I also have to agree on the copycat theory. Perhaps the Falcones and this Cobblepot guy just hired someone, gave him a black mask, and are using him as a decoy.”  
  
Bruce considered this for a moment. Perhaps hearing the copycat theory from someone else solidified the idea in Bruce’s mind that it certainly cannot be Roman Sionis. It was once again Lucius that brought Bruce out of his thought train and gave him something completely different to think on.  
  
“How much do you know about this ‘Penguin’? Perhaps you should start looking there.”  
  
XIV

The Gotham Knights are losing 3-1 in a game against the Sun City Thunder. Bruce has a beer in one hand and the television remote in the other while sitting in his armchair in the entertainment room of Wayne Manor. The Knights had played probably their worst game all season and Bruce was beyond tired by this point. He hated this west coast games when he had to stay up later than he wanted.  
  
Earlier that night, Alfred had managed to convince him to stay inside and take a break instead of blindly chasing no leads about the Falcones and this mysterious Penguin. Bruce’s British butler was nowhere to be found on the main level of the manor, yet Bruce had a faint feeling that Alfred might be doing the research Bruce was planning on doing himself.  
  
The snow fell more outside as The Sun City Thunder just scored again to make the score 4-1. Subconsciously, Bruce turned the channel to the local news station and still expects to see Vicki Vale working at the news desk. Instead, Bruce’s one time girlfriend lost her life to one of Bruce’s best friends who became a serial murderer just a few short months ago. In Bruce’s mind, he will never not feel like her death wasn’t his fault. That’s a moment that will haunt Bruce forever.  
  
Where Vicki should be is a man in his 30’s with short brown hair and square glasses on his round face. Jack Ryder is in the middle of a developing story at the end of the newscast.  
  
“…still no word on the heir to the Arkham Asylum Jeremiah Arkham. The police think he finally had enough and skipped town with no word a few months ago. Today, a local Gotham investor bought the main share of stocks in the Arkham name. Warren White now owns majority share of the Arkham Asylum. It’s still tied up in court so nothing is official but it looks to be that way. I’m Jack Ryder saying so long for the night. Enjoy the show ‘Community College’ coming up next.”  
  
In the middle of lifting his beer to his mouth for a drink, Bruce gets a strange idea. A local loan shark in Gotham just bought a share of a criminally insane mental institution and the heir to said institution up and vanished months ago. Something just seemed a little too fishy at this point. Bruce put his beer on the table and rushed to the grandfather clock in the study while a catchy theme song played on the television introducing the cast of a less than popular sitcom.  
  
XV

Just as Bruce suspected, Alfred was sitting at the computer while Bruce had spent the past two hours watching a terrible hockey game and drinking beer.  
“I figured I could give you a hand Master Bruce. It also gave you a chance to relax on a Friday night.”  
  
Bruce walked over to the computer and stood behind the chair that contained his old British butler. On the table behind them was the suit Bruce wears every night, looking no worse for wear. However it was the information on the screen in front of Alfred that peaked Bruce’s interest.  
  
On the Batcomputer is a picture of a short and plump balding, Caucasian man in a business suit and holding a briefcase.  
  
“I read the news on Warren White and something didn’t sit right about him in my stomach. I couldn’t really find anything about this ‘Penguin’ because that obviously isn’t his real name. I found nothing else on the Falcones other than what you did the other night. So I looked up this Warren White.”  
  
Bruce remained silent, knowing when Alfred had a feeling about someone, he really should shut up and listen to the wisest man he knows.  
  
“Warren White is a loan shark from here in Gotham City.” Alfred continued.  
  
“It seems he wants money from his clients then nothing else. There have been reports of tax evasion, money laundering and fraud but nothing incriminating or confirmed. To me personally, it sounds like a guy the mob would like to have connections to.”  
  
Bruce nods his agreement and understanding as he paces the cave, mulling over his thoughts. When he gets over to the table with his suit, he looks over a specific knife mark made from Victor Zsasz the previous summer. Looking over at the computer, he calls to Alfred: “Do the same research on Jeremiah Arkham.”  
  
“Ah so you saw the report on the news too then.” Alfred responded as he began pounding away on the keyboard.  
  
After a few moments, he summoned Bruce over from the file cabinets where he was examining a few different gadgets. When Bruce got over there, he couldn’t help but smile and thank any higher being out there that Alfred was here to help.  
  
On the screen was a background report of Jeremiah Arkham and his life story. None of it seemed useful to aid Bruce in his research but it’s all important none the less.  
Jeremiah Arkham had inherited the Asylum through his family blood line when his parents died. He embraced being in charge of the Asylum for a while, especially when Victor Zsasz was brought in over the summer, shortly before he disappeared.  
  
“This Hugo Strange fellow pops up quite a bit in this information too.” Alfred pointed out.  
  
Bruce thought for a moment and came to the conclusion that Strange must be the lead doctor in the Asylum and the next level under Jeremiah. Hugo Strange is also in control of the Asylum until the true ownership is released from the courts.  
  
“What are you going to do then Master Bruce?”  
  
Bruce remained silent for a moment. In his mind, he felt like Arkham and White and ‘the Penguin’ were connected. And the new name he learned tonight might just be the key to blowing everything open. “I need to get to sleep Alfred. I’m going into work tomorrow, I’m going to grab Fox, and we’re going to go and meet this Warren White.” 

XVI

“Mr. Fox, you have a visitor. He just sort of came through. There wasn’t much I could do.”  
  
Before Lucius could respond to his new intern at his door, the figure of Bruce Wayne appeared behind her short stature and black hair.  
  
“It’s fine Annie. He does what he wants all the time, no matter what… Mr. Wayne, you’re the last person I expected to see, and bright and early on a Saturday morning none the less.”  
  
The small intern allows Bruce to pass her, then pulls the door shut leaving the two men alone.  
  
“New intern? She’s cute.” Bruce remarks looking back through the glass office to the intern that just sat back at her desk.  
  
“Yes Mr. Wayne. She is new. Today is her first day as a matter of fact. I figured she wouldn’t have anyone to deal with on a Saturday and she could learn the ropes easier. Now what are you here for on this bright morning? Need a new suit for tonight?”  
  
Bruce laughed as the two men settled into their chairs to have a conversation. Lucius offered Bruce a cup of coffee, black as usual, which Bruce gratefully accepted.  
  
“No Lucius, I don’t need a new suit. I actually spent last night indoors doing research. I need your help in a different way this time… Are you familiar with Warren White Loans?” Bruce asked.  
  
“The Warren White from the news last night? I’m familiar with his entire company. Not the cheapest loans around, I can tell you that. He probably runs the highest interest loans around.” Fox responded, sipping his coffee.  
  
“I’m glad to hear that. We’re going to take a company loan from him. I believe he has ties to this ‘Penguin’ and the mob.”  
  
Lucius Fox sat across from Bruce with a sly smile on his face and looking over his friend across from him.  
  
“And I suppose you’re going to go see him alone at night, depending on what we see today?” They both share a laugh as Bruce nods and stands up.  
  
“I’ll drive. Let your intern leave early but pay her in full. It’s not her fault. Besides, if Warren White takes our money, poor girl won’t have a job anyway!” Bruce said as he looked out at Lucius’ cute new intern…  
  
XVII

“We’ll give him one of the Wayne Enterprises bank accounts that we don’t use anymore. That way if something goes south, it won’t affect anything.” Bruce explains as the two men walk towards a shanty shop in South Gotham.  
  
From the outside the business looks professional. A bright purple sign hangs above the storefront that reads ‘Warren White Loans’. Behind the shop is the south side of Gotham Harbor. When the two men enter the store, the term Loan Shark gets an entire new meaning…  
  
Hanging from the walls and ceiling are countless stuffed sharks from everywhere around the world. The wall decorations range from stuffed Tiger Sharks and Bull Sharks to the smaller Dogfish and Nurse Sharks. Behind the desk is a large premade trophy with a golden tag that reads ‘Great White Shark’. That seems to be the only fish missing from his collection.  
  
“Ahoy gentleman! Admiring the decorations?” came a voice from a back room.  
  
Coming into view was a short and fat bald man wearing a Hawaiian shirt and a pair of blue jeans. Business suits were apparently not required on Saturdays.  
  
“I’m a huge fisherman, friends. I own property in the Bahamas and on two different pacific islands. I’m going to South Africa when I save up enough money to get my final trophy.” Warren White told the duo as he indicated the Great White Shark trophy place.  
  
“Now what can I do for you gentlemen today?”  
  
Before Bruce could answer, Lucius took the initiative and struck up conversation with the business man.  
  
“My friend and I want to start up a small business. He loves to cook and I love the money. I told him I’d manage if he did all the work so here we are. Heard this was the best place in Gotham to get a loan. Better than those banks that don’t seem to have money anyway right?” All the men laughed as Bruce was very impressed with the story Lucius made up from the top of his head.  
  
“You certainly have come to the right place my friend!” White responds. “Here, look over these options real quick while I go grab some paperwork from the back.”  
White handed Lucius and Bruce a pamphlet that contained different options and details for getting a loan. The two men looked over the pamphlet and quickly agreed on the largest option with the highest interest rate; the one that would benefit Warren White the most.  
  
When White came back with the paperwork, Lucius was quick to open up a briefcase and pull out the bank account information. After giving White the information, Lucius packs up his briefcase and remarks about what a pleasure the business will be and asks White to be their first customer when they open.  
  
As they leave, Bruce could barely keep his laughter inside. Once finally in the car, he tells Lucius how impressed he was in the improvisation he did and so quickly.  
  
“I’ve done some acting in my day in college Mr. Wayne. Besides, it doesn’t seem like Warren is the smartest guy. He didn’t even recognize you as Bruce Wayne.”  
  
“I noticed. That was also something I was worried about. But right now I’m just hoping beyond hope that I can find some information in there tonight that will lead to me this Penguin guy and the Black Mask copycat. 

XVIII

That same night, Bruce returned to Warren White Loans, but dressed completely different and with a completely different intention. Instead of entering from the front, Bruce decided to break in the back door, which was an emergency exit.  
  
The door opened into a dark hallway which is the best thing Bruce could hope for. There was no guarantee Warren White was there but if he was, it could spell trouble.  
  
Bruce walked down the dark hallway and using the technology in his cowl, was able to see clearly in the dark without an issue. The hallway had doors on each side like a normal office building though they all seemed unimportant. Bruce wanted to head to the office he could see when he was here earlier that day. When he got to the point where the hallway split off into the main entrance, instead of turning right into it, Bruce went into the open door on the left, which was the office of Warren White.  
  
Bruce flipped the light switch so he could better see everything and the office turned out to be no different than the entrance. Once again, the walls were lined with stuffed Sharks and photos of White on fishing trips. The difference was the bottom part of the wall was covered with filing cabinets instead of tables and chairs. Bruce opened the cabinet label A-C. Searching through it, he finds a file of ‘Arkham, Jeremiah’. Bruce tosses it on the top of the cabinet and goes to the D-F cabinet to find the newest file inside: ‘Fox, Lucius’. Much to his surprise, there is not one file with the last name of Falcone. Thinking that maybe the ‘F’ last name spilled over into the next cabinet, Bruce is let down when nothing comes up. The only bit of remotely interesting news is a file of one ‘Loeb, Gillian’, proving that Thomas Elliot was right about the corruption of the former police commissioner.  
  
From behind Bruce, the sound of something falling comes from the entrance way. Taking precaution to gather up the files he pulled out, Bruce quickly turns around to close the cabinets and stack the files. Unfortunately, he feels a heavy blow to the middle of his back which sends him flying into the ‘G-I’ cabinet.  
  
Warren White stands over Bruce holding a trophy shark, one of which Bruce cannot tell the species or read the label. With his senses going on high alert, Bruce is able to duck the next swing of the trophy which would have caught him square in the face, and kick White in the kneecap, crippling the overweight man. Once the man is on his knees, Bruce kicks the plaque away and holds the man down with his boot on his throat. Anger spews out of Bruce, jumping to the point.  
  
“Who is the Penguin? Why did you buy the Arkham estate?”  
  
The man couldn’t make and sounds due to the weight of Bruce’s boot so he decided to stand on each of the man’s wrists, knowing his leg wasn’t able to take his weight anytime soon. And apparently the man had a smooth tongue or fear of Bats because he said anything Bruce wanted to hear.  
  
“There’s money in the Arkham fortune. I know Jeremiah through the Penguin. His name is Cobblepot. Oswald Cobblepot. Please don’t kill me. “  
  
“I won’t kill you. You’re useful.” Bruce told the man in his gravelly voice before one well aimed punch knocked the man out cold.  
  
Back in the cabinet, Bruce finds what he was hoping for when he and Fox came this morning; the files on ‘Cobblepot, Oswald’. Bruce touches his cowl to trigger the radio back to Alfred.  
  
“I got what I need. Find everything you can on one Oswald Cobblepot.” Bruce says as he takes the files for Jeremiah Arkham, Lucius Fox, Gillian Loeb and Oswald Cobblepot with him back to the Batcave. 

  


XIX

It is now well past midnight when Bruce gets back to the Batcave and next to Alfred at the computer. As Bruce begins to strip down out of the suit and into his regular clothes, he tells Alfred to tell him everything about Oswald Cobblepot he could find.  
  
“Well Master Bruce, it looks like Cobblepot is a British Elitist. He comes from an incredibly wealthy family in London. When they all died, he moved here to Gotham about ten years ago or so. Everything here screams mob ties as well, including money in Roman Sionis’ company.”  
  
“I always knew Roman’s company was crooked in some way or another.” Bruce responds as he finally gets his left boot off. “Is there anything else on there?”  
  
“There is sir. It says here he owns a nightclub downtown called The Iceberg Lounge. He also caused the Zsasz family to go bankrupt after two of them died in a boating accident last spring.”  
  
“What about Arkham? Does it saying anything about that?” Bruce asked as he began to put away his armor and gadgets.  
  
“No sir. Nothing about Jeremiah Arkham. You think the two are connected?”  
  
“I do.” Bruce responded as he walked over to the computer.  
  
“I think Jeremiah Arkham is the Black Mask that’s working for the Penguin. And I think he acted like he left town so they could get Warren White in on owning Arkham Asylum. I’m telling you Alfred, it’s all connected.”  
  
Alfred considers everything for a moment then gives Bruce an answer that was neither helpful nor encouraging.  
  
“I’d like to say you’re right Master Wayne. But right now, you probably need to get some rest. Plus the Gotham Rogues have an early football game today. Could clinch a playoff spot you know!”  
  
Bruce begins walking up the steps to the Wayne Manor study with many things on his mind. Sleep was the main thought, along with a shot of whiskey to ease the pain in his back. The second was on the Gotham Rogues actually doing well in the playoffs for a change. And finally his mind rested on unmasking this new Black Mask imposter and disbanding the Iceberg Lounge. 

XX

“I’m telling you Oswald. The Batman knows who you are! He’s going to be coming for you!” Warren White warned Cobblepot.  
  
“White, it is 10am! What are you bloody doing here in my office?”  
  
“I was attacked last night by that Batman freak everyone talks about! I caught him stealing my files! He held me captive and tortured me into telling him about you and Arkham! He had his foot on my throat, he was going to kill me until I pleaded with him, I swear!”  
  
Cobblepot rubbed his forehead trying to get rid of the headache caused by his club the night before. Tired of White yelling and complaining, he makes him a deal.  
  
“Take a vacation. Get some of your money and my men will take you wherever you want to go. Just get out of my office and out of Gotham.”  
  
Cobblepot gave a signal to one of his guards to take White back to his office. As he was leaving, Cobblepot could still hear his voice yelling about the Batman.  
  
When he looked around his shabby office and saw he was alone, Cobblepot pulled out his cellphone and calls a recent contact.  
  
“Mr. Lawton, I have another job for you and I need it done before Thursday. Meet me at my office as soon as possible.”

XXI

Bruce’s personal cellphone goes off inside of his coat pocket on the coat tree in the entertainment room when he least expects it. As he lifts himself up from the sofa while watching the Rogues clinch a playoff berth, the phone stops ringing.  
  
On the smooth surface of the touch screen, there is a missed call from Lucius Fox. The odd part about that is the fact that Fox wouldn’t call Bruce on a Sunday night and on his personal cell phone none the less. Soon after the missed call, the phone makes the message tone implying a voicemail was left and Lucius must have something important to say. Bruce listens to the message and everything he thought would happen is confirmed in a few simple sentences.  
  
“Bruce the money disappeared from the account. I followed it like you said and sure enough, it’s gone. I already alerted the authorities and I certainly hope you managed to gather our files when you made a side visit there last night. Anyway, I figured you’d like to know. See you tomorrow. Go Rogues!”

XXII

The family room of the Falcone mansion still had plenty of room despite the over large furniture, two flat screen televisions and three people sitting in it. Floyd Lawton is standing in the doorway with Alberto and Carmine sitting, relaxed on the sofa watching the Rogues game.  
  
“Oswald gave me another job.” Lawton said as his announcement of entrance.  
  
The Italian men looked away from their game to see a man standing in a red and black track suit with a pair of all black Converses on and gloves on both hands. He was tall and slender like Alberto but had shaggy black hair and a more full face.  
“I figured he would.” Carmine said. “It’s the Bat isn’t it?”  
  
Lawton nods his confirmation while staring uninterested at the television screen.  
  
“I just need to make sure I’m getting my money. I’ll do what I have to do, I just need confirmation.”  
  
“Listen, Floyd is it? Just get the jobs done. The bird has enough money to pay you three times over. Fill your contract and you’ll get your cash.”  
  
After Carmine’s response, Floyd Lawton walks over to the coffee table, takes a handful of pretzels from a bowl and leaves the mansion without another word. Outside, he looks at his cellphone and dials a contact with the name of ‘Boss I’. After a few short rings, the other end is answered.  
  
“They gave me another job. Should I continue with it?” Lawton asked.  
  
The man at the other end sounded muffled as though he was talking through a porcelain mask.  
  
“I don’t care how many jobs are given to you Lawton, you know the deal. Just get the one I gave you and you’ll be swimming in the scum of Gotham’s money in no time.”

XXIII

“Okay, listen up people. I’m taking three squads with me. I want this to be quick and painless. Get in, get the man, and get out. Nothing special. He shouldn’t know we’re coming. Nice and simple.”  
  
Gordon was preparing a few police officers in the parking lot for an assault on Warren White Loans. The day before, the G.C.P.D. received an anonymous tip that Warren White was stealing money from his clients and getting ready to leave town. It wasn’t the first claim of this but seeing as his name was fresh in the news, Gordon decided to act quickly.  
  
In one car, Gordon goes by himself. He sends Mario Falcone and detective Harvey Bullock in one car and Officer Nina Edge and Officer Jeffery Pelton in another. Gordon leads the way to south Gotham with his lights and sirens blaring down the freeway and the two other squad cars following suit. Unfortunately, the task at hand was nowhere near as simple as James Gordon would have liked it to be.  
  
The three squad cars arrive at the front of Warren White Loans to find the building ablaze with orange tongues flicking the outside from within. Standing in front of the building is a fat balding man aiming a Glock 45 right at the squad cars.  
  
“You’ll never know what happened here! Stay out of my fucking business!” The man shouts as he opens fire on the police.  
  
The five officers take instinctive action and hide behind the doors of their car where they can get the most protection from the bullets. Gordon manages to reach for his radio and call for back up as White falls back into the burning office. Mario Falcone however, has other plans that don’t involve back up.  
  
As Mario noticed White turn and run into the building, he made his move. There had to be more than one exit to the place and luckily, he found it quickly behind the store nearest the harbor. As he kicked in the emergency exit, smoke poured into the daytime air and filled his lungs. Once his eyes had cleared and air refreshed his mind, Mario charged into the burning building to take care of Warren White himself.  
  
The hallway was long and dark but Mario figured the flaming light would be the best place to find White. Inside the office to the left at the end of the hallway, Warren White was tossing files into a fire pit that had spread to encompass the entire right side of the room. Drawing his standard issue .9mm pistol he takes aim at White’s right calf. One deep breath in and after half of it is exhaled, Mario squeezes the trigger and with the sound of a firecracker White is brought to his knees with a scream.  
  
Mario rushes over and pulls him away from the fire and to the front door but doesn’t open it quite yet. He looks at White in the face and watches the shock spread across it.  
  
“You keep my family’s name out of this mess, you hear me? Or next time, my father will be the one shooting and he won’t be such a good shot, ya hear?”  
  
White just nods his understanding as Mario begins to pull him out to the waiting officers.  
  
“I got him. I’m coming out. Don’t shoot!” was the call Gordon heard from the front of the store.  
  
He recognizes the voice instantly as Mario Falcone who sure enough had left his squad car. Gordon was both furious at the hot-headed act of taking on White himself and impressed that he actually managed to do such a thing in the first place. But why did he have to shoot Warren White if he was able to suppress him inside the office? 

XXIV

“I want it done before Thursday, can you do that?” Was the demand that Oswald Cobblepot gave to Floyd Lawton in the office of the Iceberg Lounge.  
  
“Before Thursday? You’re really leaving me a lot of time here Cobblepot. It’s freaking Tuesday. Thursday is Thanksgiving and the day I have to take care of Dent.”  
  
“Well you either do it before Thursday or you get half the money and the Bat chasing you down. What’s it going to be?”  
  
Floyd Lawton is furious as he walks over to the window and looks out into the Tuesday morning sky. How the hell does this man expect me to pull off these two jobs in forty-eight hours? He’s insane.  
  
“I can help with that.” Came the voice of Jeremiah Arkham from a chair in the corner.  
  
“I’ll talk to Hugo Strange. He’s in charge of the Asylum. If the crazies come out… So will the Bat…”  
  
“’At’s brilliant thinking there Jeremiah. I love it! What do you say Mr. Lawton? It may well be your only chance to do this right!”  
  
Floyd did have to admit it seems like a very good idea and the fact that it’s the best (and only) opportunity to kill the Bat before Thursday makes it better.  
  
“We’ll do it. Tomorrow night. What’s the plan?” Lawton asks Jeremiah, completely ignoring Cobblepot who looks like a proud parent of Jeremiah at the moment.  
  
“Well…” Jeremiah stammers, trying to come up with a brilliant plan off the top of his head.  
  
“Well, we can blame the prisoners for the death of the Batman in the riot. We’ll put you in the highest guard tower to get the clearest shot. Dr. Hugo Strange can take care of the police during the aftermath. We’ll all get off scotch free.”

***  
  
“Dr. Strange, it’s Jeremiah Arkham. I need a favor. Tomorrow night, I need you to release Victor Zsasz and allow a small riot to break out in the front garden of the Asylum; can you do that for me?” 

XXV

Once again, Bruce Wayne is half awake in a meeting in the board room of Wayne Enterprises. Lucius Fox is giving a brief speech on something Bruce wasn’t even sure of. If it wasn’t for the woman who entered the board room when someone Bruce didn’t even know started talking, he very well could have fallen asleep.  
  
Instead however, the same intern from Saturday walked in and went straight to Lucius, who had taken a seat next to Bruce and honestly looked ready to fall asleep himself. The intern was carrying a silver tray with a mug on it; was Lucius having his intern as his own personal waiter?  
  
Bruce watched the shorter woman walk around the back of the board room. She was dressed in a medium length black business skirt with a pair of white flats on her feet and a turquoise sweater. It must have been cold at her desk.  
  
Her shoulder length hair bounced as she made her way towards Lucius and her blue/green eyes glistened as she tried to make as little attention as possible. Bruce hated to admit it but he hadn’t looked at someone this way since Vicki Vale… On her neck when she got to Lucius was a name tag that Bruce was able to read: “Annie Ellington”.  
  
XVI

After the meeting, Lucius and Bruce are sitting in his office having another cup of coffee and discussing the charity ball the following night. Outside, Bruce sees Annie sitting at her computer and she appears to have settled into her job quite well.  
  
“Mr. Wayne, you can stop making google eyes at my intern. If you’d like to talk to her, I’ll call her in and leave you two alone. This isn’t high school.”  
  
Before Bruce can even respond with a witty joke, Lucius Fox is out of his office door and talking to Annie and pointing to his office then to the elevator. As Lucius walks away, Annie walks towards the office door and Bruce has to prepare quickly.  
  
“Uhm, Mr. Wayne? Wow. Okay. Mr. Fox told me to come in and keep you company until he gets back from someone’s office, I don’t remember their name. Oh now I’m going to ramble because I don’t know what to say…”  
  
Bruce smiled at the clumsiness and social-awkwardness of the Annie Ellington. Then he begins his story.  
  
“It’s alright Annie. Listen, I actually had a question for you. I was wondering if A, you were a Gotham Knights fan and B, if you’d want to go to Knights Bar and Grill tonight and watch the game with me.”  
  
Annie was so taken aback she literally stumbled backwards into the office door before she was able to gather her thoughts and respond.  
  
“Mr. Wayne, are you seriously asking me out on a date?”  
  
“If you don’t want it to be, just think of it as a formal introduction to Wayne Enterprises. Only with beer and good food.”  
  
“And you do this with all of your interns? Or just me?”  
  
Bruce liked hearing her soft and sweet voice yet it could be so tonal when she wanted it to be like now.  
  
“Honestly, I don’t. But you’re the only one I’d be willing to take anyway. Come on, what can it hurt? We’ll get to know about each other. Good times. “  
  
When Lucius comes back, he passed Annie who’s leaving with a smile on her face.  
  
“Mr. Wayne, dare I ask what that was about?”  
  
“What? Oh that? Nothing at all. Just a date!” Bruce laughed.  
  
XVII

The Knights Bar and Grill is a place in Gotham City where people can go and watch a knights game and spend just about as much money as they would if they were to go to the actual game themselves. Tonight, Bruce had met Annie there straight from work at seven in the evening, just as the puck dropped on a new game.  
  
“Wow can you imagine this place if the Knights had ever won a championship?” Annie remarked as she made her way to the barstool style table where Bruce was already sitting.  
  
“Have you never been here before? It’s an incredible atmosphere, even when Gotham University’s football team lost a championship game…”  
  
“I was at that game!!! Are you talking about the one from last week right? Yeah, I was there in Sun City. I had to travel for my alma mater!”  
  
A waiter came over and took the order for a pitcher of Gotham’s brew and large boneless honey bar-b-que wings. On the televisions, multiple sporting events were being shown, including the Knights game on many different screens. There had to be over one-hundred televisions in the bar.  
  
“So you’re a graduate of Gotham University, huh? Did you like it there?”  
  
“Yeah, I suppose I did.” Annie responded. “I wasn’t big on the parties and all that. Strictly academics. I prefer more of a community college feel.”  
  
The Knights just opened the scoring and half of the bar erupted in cheers while the other half had raised a fist in the air and a beer mug to their mouth, Bruce included.  
  
“What about you Mr. Wayne? What’s the life like of a billionaire?”  
  
“First off, Ms. Ellington, we are away from work and on a date. Please do not call me Mr. Wayne. Bruce is perfect.”  
  
“I said this isn’t a date… Bruce! It’s a formal introduction to the company remember!”  
  
Bruce just laughed and raised his glass to her perhaps a bit sarcastically but playful none the less.  
  
“To be honest Annie, you see my life. I’m at Wayne Enterprises every day, sitting in board meetings, managing stocks, making sure assets are in the right place, typical ownership crap.”  
  
“I think you sleep in the board meetings from what I’ve seen personally but I’ll let you call it sitting. Didn’t you want to distance yourself from a family company? Both of my parents were teachers and I know I could never do that.”  
  
“Before my parents were killed-“  
  
“SHIT Bruce, I’m sorry to bring that up. I really didn’t mean to.”  
  
Bruce actually felt the sympathy in her sweet voice that made him think even if he didn’t want to talk about it, he still might.  
  
“It’s completely fine Annie. I have no problems talking about it. It happened years ago. No need to dwell on it. Like I was saying, before my parents were killed I wanted to help people. You know, like police officer, doctor, fireman, and the list goes on. But when my family died, this was all I had left. After I traveled and learned countless things, I decided I wanted to keep it going so I took it out of your boss’s hands and back into the family.”  
  
Annie was quiet as she tasted her beer and wings for the first time and really enjoyed them both.  
  
“I suppose it’s my backstory time?” she asked with a smile and Bruce nodded through his half full beer mug.  
  
“Well I come from a really poor family. I never had much growing up and my parents were always working, sometimes two to three jobs just to make ends me. I took pride in my academics because as a kid, that’s what I thought my job was; getting good grades and the report cards were like pay checks.”  
  
She took a drink then continued her origin.  
  
“I worked at a pizza place in high school and still maintained a 4.0 through all four years. I applied and received countless scholarships that made going to Gotham University nearly free. I went in and majored in engineering and design. See, as a kid I always built stuff because like I said, my parents were working and I didn’t have anything. So I went to school for it and applied for an internship at Wayne Enterprises and Mr. Fox hired me the week after. I saved up enough money in college to get my own house too.”  
  
After her story was complete, she ate three more wings and finished off her beer which allowed Bruce to pour her another from the pitcher. As he pretended to watch the screen of the game behind her, he was actually thinking that there was something special about Annie. She didn’t throw herself at Bruce because of his money. She refused to admit this was an actual date. She was brilliant and clumsy at the same time. Pushing the thought of Vicki Vale out of his head with great difficulty, Bruce opened his mouth.  
  
“Join me at the charity ball tomorrow evening. I’m not sure if you were planning on going but I’d like you to be my plus one.”  
  
Silent because of chewing, Annie indicated for him to wait a second so she didn’t speak with her mouth full.  
  
“I will go with you Mr. Wayne if you call this number and pick me up at this address. Oh, and also as long as you admit tomorrow night is not a date either.”  
  
Bruce couldn’t help but smile as she wrote her telephone number and address on a napkin and handed it over as the Knights scored again to make the game 3-0 in the third period… Were they really talking for that long?  
  
XXVIII

Bruce arrives outside of Annie’s house in West Gotham in his Nissan GT-R. When he finally finds a parking spot across the street he is able to get out and go greet his date properly instead of sending an “I’m here” text message like most people do.  
  
When he knocks on the door, Annie arrives quickly and to Bruce’s surprise, completely ready to leave. She has a short black dress on but it is very acceptable for a ball of this occasion. The dress compliments her features extremely well, especially the assets on her chest and legs… Bruce is speechless.  
  
He offers her his hand as they walk across the street and Bruce opens the door like a gentleman. Annie gladly accepts it with a smile and Bruce was just happy to watch her walk.  
  
On the way to the Wayne Enterprises building, the two pass four different cop cars heading towards the city limits at an incredibly high rate of speed. The two converse on what it could be about but no affirmative decision could be made. They finally arrive outside of the tower and Annie has to convince Bruce to use the valet parking. Even after he explains that the GT-R is his baby and doesn’t trust anyone with it, her soft voice can be very convincing.  
  
Bruce tosses the keys at the valet driver and gives him a stern ‘Don’t touch anything’ look then rushes over to help Annie out of the door. When Bruce is in camera range, flashes more than the worst lightning storm rain down on the couple.  
  
“I hope this won’t push you away or stop making public appearances with me?” Bruce whispers in Annie’s ear as they walk into the ballroom hand in hand.  
  
“Are you kidding? You’re a billionaire, aren’t I just another accessory for you?” she responds but with a light tone implying sarcasm as she grasps his hand a little tighter.  
  
Inside the lobby of Wayne Enterprises are countless tables set up with six chairs at each. The glass window-walls have festive winter lights strung up to set a relaxing and welcoming vibe and the tables have real pumpkins on top of fall/winter tablecloths. Bruce certainly could never have decorated something so festive.  
  
Bruce leads Annie to a table closest to the stage where Lucius Fox was straitening some papers as the remainders of the guests trickle in and find a seat. He sees the couple and smiles as he looks down and shakes his head. Annie waves as she sits down in the chair Bruce had pulled out for her. Lucius returns the favor then clears his throat and addresses the crowd.  
  
“As we all get settled in, I’d like to thank you all for coming. I hope everyone is hungry and brought a large appetite because there’s food for hundreds. I’m not going to drone on in my boring voice that puts most board members here to sleep. So here to say thanks and state the reason for all of this is none other than Bruce Wayne himself.”  
  
The crowd bursts into an ocean of applause as Lucius steps away from the podium and Bruce begins his walk to it. He had no speech prepared but he doesn’t need one. What good is public speaking without a little (or a lot) of improvisation?  
  
“I too would like to thank everyone for coming here tonight. Obviously Thanksgiving is tomorrow and I know many of you would like to be with your families so we can’t thank you enough for being here.”  
  
Bruce raises his glass of champagne he brought from his table and toasts the crowd while making eye contact and winking at Annie.  
  
“Now most of you know that I was orphaned as a child. But this time of year isn’t time for pity, it’s about giving to those that don’t have anything. So I would like everyone to stand up and welcome the boys and girls homes of Gotham City. To you young kids, enjoy and make yourself at home. Tonight, we all are you family.”  
  
Bruce begins another standing ovation of applause as the orphans of Gotham City don’t have any idea what is going on. When Bruce leaves the stage he goes right over to the twenty tables containing multiple houses of orphans and greets each on personally while Lucius gets back on the microphone to give instructions on getting food from the buffet.  
  
Eventually Bruce gets back to the table where Annie had been waiting and he sees Lucius has claimed himself a spot at the table as well.  
  
“I didn’t actually know what this was about. I thought it was just another charity ball to celebrate Gotham’s richest people.”  
  
Bruce gave her a sarcastic look but a serious answer.  
  
“I hated the holidays and still do, but these kids need something and I want to give it to them.”  
  
Annie’s eyes lit up and she gave a huge smile as Bruce felt a comforting hand on his knee. In his pocket however, his cellphone is ringing with an incoming call from Alfred. He didn’t want to be rude to Annie so he waits until the voicemail is complete. Alfred’s voice greets him in a tone he didn’t want to hear tonight.  
  
“You’re needed sir. Now. Every G.C.P.D. officer is at Arkham Asylum. There’s been a mass breakout.”  
  
XXIX

“I’ll be right back guys. I have to run to the bathroom real quick.”  
  
After Bruce excused himself he went to the entryway and out of the door instead of to the restroom. He rushes the valet driver to get his car as soon as possible. As he was waiting, a bright light lit up the sky to the east: the Bat-signal from above the G.C.P.D. When the valet driver returns with Bruce’s GT-R, he hands him a tip without even looking which turned out to be more than the driver ever expected…  
  
If it wasn’t for the launch control built into the new Nissan GT-R models, Bruce would have spun his tires for minutes trying to flee the parking area of Wayne Enterprises. He knew he had to get away quickly and driving fast was the best way possible to do so.  
  
He drove a few blocks then pulled into a side alley. Moving as fast as possible to the trunk, Bruce began getting undressed and opening a briefcase that he pulled from where the spare tires are usually kept. In record time, Bruce was dressed in his Bat-suit and ready for action. He radios to Alfred to let him know what’s going on.  
  
“I’m going to Arkham now Alfred. Keep me updated?”  
  
XXX

Using his grapnel gun, Bruce is able to swing through the streets of Gotham like a spider on a web. With not having the Batmobile, running across roof tops and swinging from buildings is the quickest way to get to the outskirts of the city, the same place where the cop cars were heading on his way to the charity event.  
  
As he nears the Asylum overlooking the harbor, he sees the countless squad cars formed around the prison gate. Bruce had never seen so many flashing lights in one area. If he was epileptic, it could have caused a serious problem.  
  
The officers are standing around and waiting for orders from their superiors. The last thing they expected was the Batman to glide directly into the middle of them, which is exactly what happened. Nearest to Bruce are detective Harvey Bullock and now lieutenant Mario Falcone. Both of them plus numerous officers pull their standard issue weapons on the batman until told to stand down by Commissioner Gordon who saw him fly in. A few left their weapons trained on the Bat, including Bullock.  
  
“Our friend Black Mask was here. He was out in the courtyard when we got here. I think he’s the mastermind behind this but he disappeared in the mass of prisoners.”  
  
“How do you want to do this then?” Bruce asked in his gravelly voice.  
  
“Try to find Black Mask. Let us take care of the prisoners.”  
  
Without a word the Batman shot into the sky and came down on top of a guard outpost on the other side of the prison walls, ready for a fight with many of the same criminals he pulled off of Gotham’s streets. 

***  
  
Meanwhile, sitting atop the highest tower in the east of the courtyard, Floyd Lawton steadies his rifle and waits for an open shot to silence the Bat. 

XXXI

Bruce looks down at a sea of orange jumpsuits waiting to get a piece of him. With no other choice, Bruce takes a deep breath and plunges into the group, swinging and ducking swiftly.  
  
Lucky for Bruce, many of the prisoners are still handcuffed and cannot get any punches at Bruce. He takes advantage of that with well-aimed fists to their heads or kidneys. Kicks to kneecaps also work very well, which Bruce has used when necessary.  
  
When Bruce is finally able to steady himself and catch his breath after fighting ten men simultaneously, Bruce looks around the courtyard. Littering the brown grass are handcuffs and prison jumpsuits as well as other escaped prisoners trying to organize an escape. At the main gate staring down the police is another group of about ten men, one of which Bruce recognizes by the tally marks on the top of his head and hands: Victor Zsasz.  
  
When Bruce begins to leave the safety of the guard’s outpost, the last thing he expects to happen does. Three steps away from the outpost, Bruce hears the sound of a rifle he would use to go hunting and tastes the earthy flavor of trampled grass at the same time. Turning around, Bruce sees a limp body of a bloody man with only half of his face remaining. Bruce crawls back to the guard outpost and hides, pinned down. All he can do now is wait for the police if he doesn’t want to be shot dead like the prisoner that tackled him from behind. 

XXXII

Once again, Floyd Lawton is furious. He never misses a target. In a technicality, he still hit and killed something but his target is alive and pinned down while he has no other shot at him.  
  
Lawton chambers another round and remains in a prone position in the highest guard tower, watching and waiting for the Batman to show his cowl once more. He’s watched the riot take over the prison and Jeremiah Arkham disappear inside of the asylum. Other than that, he’s sat quietly waiting, as if he was hunting.  
  
Soon enough, he gets impatient knowing that his prey is hiding behind a building right in front of him. He begins to look through his scope to try and find something else to shoot out, just so the Bat knows to be scared. A warning shot so to speak.  
  
In his sights, he has the head of Commissioner Gordon. How easy it would be to end that right now. The police are so focused on the prisoners that they think one of them shot the rifle anyway. But next to Gordon is what spooks Lawton; the heir of Gotham’s organized crime. But something is wrong, he’s staring directly into the scope and mouthing three words. “Get. Out. Now.”  
  
XXXIII  
  
Gordon is organizing his troops outside of the Asylum now that SWAT has arrived. He tells the swat team to enter directly at the gate. The Batman is helping on the inside. Once they are inside, he tells the snipers to head to the towers and keep the remaining prisoners suppressed. He then tells everyone to keep their head on a swivel and to use cover of the buildings; there’s still a gunman somewhere.  
  
As he gets ready to start the assault, he looks are Mario Falcone who is gazing at the tallest tower in the east.  
  
“Did you see something Mario?” Gordon asked out of sheer confusion while following his empty gaze.  
  
Thinking quick on his feet, Mario is able to make a connection swiftly.  
  
“Black Mask. He had a gun and was running down the stairs.”  
  
Gordon nods his understanding, knowing his snipers will be there soon. He stands behind the SWAT team and gives his orders. Every cop in Gotham City is headed into Arkham Asylum. 

XXXIV

It was quiet for a few minutes so Bruce needs to move. Slowly he peeks around the building to where the shot from the high powered rifle was fired. A few seconds passed and Bruce saw nothing plus he still had his head. The time to move is now.  
  
He stood up and sprinted full speed to the gates of the prison. The group of now fifteen men didn’t hear him coming due to them being focused on opening the gates. From behind, Bruce smashes two of their heads together unnoticed, making the group a bit easier to deal with. He places two more boot shots at two more legs then a palm to a nose of another, bringing the total to below ten men. Yet now Bruce was face to face with a familiar foe.  
  
“It’s good to see you again Batman. It’s been a while.” Taunted Victor Zsasz who stood in front of Bruce twirling a knife.  
  
Bruce decides he has too much to focus on than taunts from a criminal. Zsasz lunges with the knife but Bruce sidesteps easily and counters quickly with a sleeper-hold and a broken wrist for Zsasz, causing the knife to fall. As Zsasz falls to the ground, so do the prison gates. The G.C.P.D. has entered the Asylum.  
  
Bruce sees Gordon pointing directions to where the other officers need to go. As they all disperse, he approaches Bruce followed by Mario and Bullock.  
  
“The shooter was aiming at me. He missed because I let my guard down and was tackled from behind. That prisoner was the unlucky one.”  
  
“Mario said it was Black Mask. He saw him up in the east tower.”  
  
Bruce tells Gordon he has a hunch on who it is but needs to go do more research. Without any other interaction, Bruce takes out his grapnel gun and once again shoots away into the night back towards the heart of the city. As he leaves, Mario Falcone watches in a mixture of hatred and admiration for what the Batman stands for.  
  
Once Gordon sees that the courtyard is under control, he takes the two men behind him to the entrance way of the Asylum where a balding man with circular glasses steps into view. The nametag on his white overcoat reads “Dr. Hugo Strange”. 

XXXV

Dr. Hugo Strange leads the three men down a few hallways and past empty cells until they reach the wardens office which was obviously ransacked in the breakout. Inside, Dr. Strange picks up a stack of papers off of the desk and turns his attention to the police officers.  
  
“I really don’t know where to begin. I do know I have to give you these papers. They prove I am in charge of the Asylum. Especially now that Jeremiah Arkham is dead.”  
  
The three cops stand stunned by the news. This is all new to them.  
  
“I’m sorry doctor. How do you know this?” Gordon asked, trying to make sense of the situation.  
  
“You’re about to find out commissioner. I wasn’t the one who found him. It was my intern, Dr. Quinzel. She should be back here any minute.”  
  
Just as Dr. Strange finished his sentence, an average height blond female entered the room. She wore a skirt that was shorter than her over coat but then again, she was supposed to have left work two hours ago.  
  
“Harleen, take us to Mr. Arkham please. The officers need to see him.”  
  
“Of course Dr. Strange.” Said the intern in a New Jersey accent.  
  
Harleen Quinzel led the three officers down another grey hallway followed by Dr. Strange. Eventually they entered a room that was used for execution via the electric chair. The difference was the man sitting in the electric chair was not burnt at all. It was a sight no one would want to see the night before Thanksgiving.  
  
Jeremiah Arkham was strapped to the electric chair via the handcuffs on each arm. The difference is Arkham had no fingers on either hand or any toes on either foot. All twenty digits were scattered around the chair, giving the appearance they just stayed where they fell when they were removed. Making things worse, his tongue, ears, and genitals were also scattered around the body. Finishing everything off was a black mask that was sitting atop his lap where his genitals once were.  
  
Barely able to stomach what he is seeing, Gordon turns and exits the room to call in a crime scene investigation unit. He also decides he needs to contact the Batman to tell him the pursuit of the Black Mask copycat was no longer needed.  
  
Before he leaves for his vehicle, Gordon turns to thank Dr. Strange for his cooperation and taking care of the Asylum. After the three men leave, Dr. Strange allows himself a slight smile while he looks down and admires the work he did to the man strapped helplessly to the chair…

XXXVI

By the time Bruce makes it back to his GT-R, two hours had passed. The charity event was over by now and there were only a few minutes until it was technically Thanksgiving. He pulls out his cellphone and dials the number Annie had given him. It rings twice, then goes directly to voicemail. Two rings then voicemail usually means the call was seen then rejected. That’s never a good sign.  
  
Bruce hits the steering wheel of his car, angry about the events of the night. He planned a great evening for Gotham’s orphans. He thought he and Annie would be closer after tonight because it seemed possible. He didn’t plan to get shot at or get in any type of fight. Yet everything that he didn’t want to happen did.  
  
Deciding he needs to go home and sleep, he starts up the car and turns the radio on to a story he did not expect to hear.  
  
…Jeremiah Arkham was found dead in the prison riot. It was confirmed he was the copycat Black Mask Murder. Hugo Strange is now in charge of Arkham Asylum…”  
  
Sure enough, Bruce looks into the sky and sees the bat signal. He thinks to himself it’s time to suit up tonight… again.  
  
XXXVIII

Gordon sits next to the light on top of the G.C.P.D. waiting for the Batman to show up. In his hand is the file of Mario Falcone. Thoughts of regret and failure pass through his mind as the newest paper is added to the file: Mario’s official promotion paperwork. Is he the right choice? Did Gordon throw away everything he did to make the G.C.P.D. clean and straight? Why can’t he just be confident in his decision?  
  
Silently, Bruce arrives in the shadows of the roof as usual when he is summoned. Gordon appeared to be so deep in thought that it wasn’t until Bruce cleared his throat that he came back to reality.  
  
“I heard the news about Arkham. That was my hunch.” Bruce explained to the police commissioner.  
  
“Yeah, go figure he was killed in the place with his name on the roof. It was terrible. The poor bastard was mutilated. Sure he was a criminal but no man deserves what he got.”  
  
“Do you trust this Hugo Strange? Obviously Warren White wasn’t good enough to be in charge of the asylum and we see what happened to Jeremiah.”  
  
“I met him officially and talked to him earlier tonight.” Gordon explained.  
  
“He’s nice but he is, well for lack of a better word, strange.” Gordon hated saying something that even remotely sounded like a pun.  
  
Bruce was silent for a moment, then asks another question that was on his mind.  
  
“What about the shooter? Was it him?”  
  
“Mario saw him up in the tower. We didn’t recover a bullet or anything but it makes sense. He can be placed at the scene and there was motive. No other evidence was even collected. You do know he was trying to kill you right?”  
  
Bruce is silent but nods. He thinks he must be doing his job right if someone is trying to kill him. Perhaps he is instilling fear in the criminals of Gotham and if his life is something to risk order to save the city, it might just have to be that way. 

XXXVIII

Oswald Cobblepot, Carmine Falcone and Alberto Falcone are all sitting around Cobblepot’s desk in his small office of the Iceberg Lounge. Atop the desk are a couple bottles of Irish whiskey and a brief case full of cash waiting for Floyd Lawton. A celebration party is in order.  
  
When the man of the hour walks in with anger still on his face, the joyful mood of the party is sucked out of the lone window in the office.  
  
“The Bat is alive.” Lawton said to the group of people sitting down.  
  
They are all silent for a moment as the information swept over them. Then anger took over Oswald Cobblepot like never before, but he directed it at Alberto Falcone.  
  
“You told me he never bloody misses! You said ‘e was the best bloody assassin! I give ‘im one job to do tonight and ‘e fucking misses! I thought you wanted into the crime family Alberto! Well this isn’t the way to do it!”  
  
“You need to calm the fuck down Cobblepot! It’s not like my son is the one that missed the Bat! It was him!” Carmine yelled back.  
  
“I don’t give a flying fuck who it was! This man brought me this man to kill two people. ‘E had the prime opportunity and failed. Well I tell you what! You miss your shot at Dent tomorrow, and I’ll make sure I won’t miss my shot at either of you.”  
  
Carmine rose from his chair so fast it fell over backwards as he slammed his glass on the desk. “You won’t touch my son! How dare you make that threat!”  
  
“Oh yeah Carmine? How ‘bout this? I’ll take out the entire Falcone family and leave the city under my control. ‘Ow about that?”  
  
“Get your panties out of a wad gentleman. Jesus Christ. I won’t miss Dent.” Lawton interjected and he took their argument as his prime opportunity to leave and as he does, he dials that same ‘Boss I’ number again.  
  
“I didn’t get the Bat. But the D.A. dies in the morning.” He explains.  
  
“What about the bird and the crime boss?” the porcelain masked man asked.  
  
“The way their fighting now, I might not have to take either of them out.”  
  
XXXIX

Bruce is woken up at 10:30am by the bright sunlight of a Thanksgiving morning in Gotham City. He’s been meaning to have Alfred get light blocking curtains for his bedroom but never seems to remember at any other time but when he wakes up. As Bruce rises from his king size bed, his cellphone rings on his bedside table. He looks at the I.D. hoping to see Annie’s name but instead it reads Dick Grayson.  
  
“Happy Thanksgiving Bruce!” the excited voice of Dick called through the receiver.  
  
“You too Dick. What are you all doing today?” Bruce asks as he is trying to get dressed with one hand which isn’t working at all.  
  
“We’re all going to cook… Which means we’re probably going to get pizza and watch a football game because the food would be gross.”  
  
When Dick is talking about his plans, he gives Bruce the best idea to try to patch things up with Annie: Dinner and a movie.  
  
“Dick you gave me the best idea and plans for the day! Gotta Go! Thanks!” Bruce hangs up the phone before Dick even gets a chance to say goodbye.  
  
Bruce quickly finishes getting dressed now that he has both hands available. He pulls on a fancy dress shirt that he only wears on holidays or special occasions and he was certainly hoping today would be one of them.  
  
He holds his cell phone to his ear and hopes beyond hope that Annie will answer. It rings three times before Bruce gets what he wanted, though the usual soft voice that should be on the other end is beyond angry.  
  
“Yes, Mr. Wayne?” she bites.  
  
“Annie, oh thank you for answering. Listen, about last night, I can’t begin to apologize, especially over the phone. So I will be at your house in fifteen minutes. Be ready for a day of fun!”  
  
Annie tried to respond to Bruce but his mind was going a mile a minute and he had already hung up before she could get her opinion in.  
  
Bruce runs through the kitchen to the garage and tells Alfred to take the day off and to do whatever he wants. Bruce jumps in his GT-R and burns rubber out of the garage to Annie Ellington’s house.

XL

Bruce knocks on Annie’s oak front door more intently than a child knocking for candy on Halloween. Through the glass windows, Bruce see’s Annie coming to the door in a nice formal top and brown skirt and unsurprisingly, she still doesn’t look happy to see him. Unfortunately, Bruce thinks this look makes her look prettier, which could be a problem. As she opens the door, Bruce begins his apology speech without any hesitation.  
  
“Annie, listen. I am so sorry about last night. I know there is nothing I can say or do to prove how bad I feel about it. I got a call from my Uncle Philip on the South Korean business end of Wayne Enterprises. We had to discuss logistics for shipping and boring crap like that. I swear I’m not making it up, you can ask Lucius.”  
  
Bruce takes a breath but quickly begins again before Annie can say anything.  
  
“I want to make it up to you. I have no plans today and I didn’t know if you did or not so I’m giving you some. Let’s go get some pizza. There’s nothing that says thanksgiving like splitting a XXL pizza! Then there’s a new movie out about some Norwegian God of Thunder. It’s based on a comic book I think. I figured we could see that today too.”  
“Bruce, stop.” Annie said very assertively.  
  
“Why do you care so much? I mean seriously? What is it about me? Do you have a bet or something that you can sleep with the new intern in a week? You’re a fucking billionaire, Bruce. Why are you chasing me like I’m the last female on Earth? We just started talking on Tuesday for God sake. Seriously?”  
  
Bruce stood on Annie’s porch dumbfounded. He was used to being able to sweet-talk and charm people but Annie was different. Perhaps that’s a reason he was drawn to her in the first place. He thought for a moment, and then approached with a different plan of attack.  
  
“Every point you raise is right. But you’re wrong about one thing. I am not that kind of person, no matter what it looks like or what you think. I try to be a good person because I feel it’s right. What I did last night was wrong and I admit it. But look, I’m trying to make it up. Sure my money could get any girl. But I don’t want that, I’m not about that life.  
  
I think you are a very pretty woman. I would like to go on a few dates with you and get to know you. And frankly Annie, before last night, I thought we were getting on pretty well.”  
  
Now it was Annie’s turn to think. Was Bruce Wayne really standing on her porch and pleading a case as to why they should date? And is what he said actually true? She knows he can be charming and persuasive if need be.  
  
“We’re going to do this Bruce. I don’t know if you’re being serious or not- let me finish.” She said as he opened his mouth to interject.  
  
“We’re not getting pizza and we’re not going to see the Norwegian Thunder God movie. I actually have plans today. My parents came over and we are having Thanksgiving dinner in my first house. Now if you’re serious about wanting to date, you’ll come in and meet my parents. Deal?”  
  
Bruce doesn’t respond to Annie. He firmly believes actions speak louder than words so he goes into action. Bruce steps past Annie and opens the oak door himself and lets himself into the house and begins searching for her parents while getting lost in the maze of a house he’s never been in. Annie meanwhile, stares after him as he wanders down the hallway to the kitchen in the back of the house.  
  
XLI

It took Bruce a minute to find the kitchen inside Annie’s house. Her floors are solid, polished oak which matches the front door exceptionally well. Directly inside is a staircase that leads to two bedrooms and a bathroom. To the left is a sitting/family area with very nice white carpet which also feeds into the dining area. Under the steps sits a small powder room. In the back right of the house rests the kitchen where Bruce finally found who he was looking for.  
  
Inside the yellow kitchen (wallpaper is never flattering for such a room) are two older adults both busy cooking. The woman is on the taller side and very slender. She has strong black hair just like Annie’s and the same eye color as well. The older man is shorter and rounder. He’s wearing a flannel shirt designed for the holiday and a pair of camouflage pants. The woman is dressed in a sweater similar to Annie’s though it has a giant Turkey on the front. It’s an ugly Thanksgiving sweater instead of Christmas.  
  
“Good morning . I don’t know if Annie told you I’d be coming because I didn’t know either! My name is Bruce Wayne. I’d like to date your daughter and this appears to be one of those dates. Is there anything I can help with in here?” Bruce asked as he took off his coat.  
  
XLII

Annie arrives in the kitchen just in time to see Bruce shaking hands with her mother and father.  
  
“Annie, you didn’t tell us Bruce Wayne was coming for dinner! Oh goodness. Oh Bruce, you can call me Shirley.” Annie’s mother said to Bruce as they formally shook hands.  
  
“I’m Troy. I’d shake your hand but they’re covered in stuffing at the moment.” Said Annie’s father who was much nicer than Bruce expected him to be.  
  
Shirley handed Bruce an extra table setting and wine glass for him to place at the table across the hall why she took his black pea coat to the family room sofa. Shirley comes into the dining room with a bottle of Pinot Noir and invites Bruce to join them for a glass which he happily obliged.  
  
When Bruce reenters the kitchen, Troy is pulling the turkey out of the oven. Annie is waiting for him and thrusts a bowl of mashed potatoes in one of his hands and a bowl of corn into the other then turns her neck in a ‘follow me’ sort of suggestion. He follows her (something he would gladly do every day) to the dining room to place the food on the table.  
“My parents reacted really weird to you.” She said in a hushed tone.  
  
“They usually don’t react to people I go out with that acceptingly. They’re very… protective.”  
  
Bruce laughs at the statement already having a response. “You know I just have a certain charm about me I suppose. That’s what got me in here for dinner, or do you guys call it lunch? It’s only noon.”  
  
Annie stuck out her tongue in a cute and sarcastic way only to be startled by the sound of breaking glass followed by a bloodcurdling scream from the kitchen.  
  
Bruce and Annie literally sprint back into the kitchen to see Shirley with her hands over her mouth and Troy standing dumbstruck. They’re both locked in watching the small television on the counter next to the microwave. On the television screen is the Gotham City Thanksgiving Day Parade. 

  


XLIII

Floyd Lawton sits waiting in an empty apartment building at a window overlooking the end of the Gotham City Thanksgiving Day parade. On his lap is the same rifle he used to try and take out the Batman, the only time it’s ever failed him.  
  
Below on the street is the parade that is just starting to go by, followed by a countless amount of people heading toward the stage 300 yards away where Harvey Dent will soon begin a speech. The sunny day was just mocking the dark events that Floyd Lawton would drop onto Gotham City.  
  
Through the high powered scope of the rifle now in his hands, Lawton begins to watch the stage closely. The stage has four chairs and a single podium with a microphone attached. Floyd knew that soon, Harvey Dent would be standing there one second, and laying behind it in the next…  
  
Speaking of Harvey Dent, he leads four men up the steps onto the stage as the parade had reached its end. Floyd recognized three of the four men including Commissioner Gordon, Lieutenant Falcone, and Harvey Dent. His best guess is the fourth man is the mayor of Gotham City.  
  
As the floats and people of the parade settle in around the stage and fill the street to maximum capacity, Harvey Dent takes center stage and greets the crowd to a mass of applause and cheers. When he raises his hands to silence the crowd, Dent is silenced himself.  
  
The sound of one crack of thunder is heard in the distance and echoed through the street. But before the sound was heard, the mayor of Gotham and Mario Falcone were showered with the blood of Harvey Dent as he collapsed dead behind the podium in front of thousands of news cameras and citizens of Gotham.  
  
XLIV

Harvey Dent, the recently elected district attorney of Gotham City, was assassinated live on national television during the most watched parade around the country. Bruce and Annie were not watching the scene unfold but the reaction of both of her parents says it all.  
  
The news station quickly cuts to a commercial, leaving all viewers in awe and tears. Bruce and Annie take quick action to draw the attention of Shirley and Troy away from the horror and back onto the holiday.  
  
Annie rushes over to the floor to clean up the mess of cranberries that were once in the shattered glass bowl in Shirley’s hands. After a moment she comes around and begins to help Annie as Troy continues to watch the television like it will soon be the only thing left on earth. Soon after, the news station returns with live coverage from the tragic even.  
  
On the screen are nearly 100 emergency vehicles and paramedics trying to secure the scene and evacuate the onlookers. Jack Ryder is barely able to contain his emotions as he reads reports being fed to him via earpiece in the news room.  
  
“The police are receiving reports that the District Attorney of Gotham City is in fact deceased. Rumors state that the mob family and heart of organized crime Carmine Falcone are behind the killing though that is unconfirmed at this time. When we know more, we will bring it to you live.”  
  
When the news station went to another commercial, Bruce decided to take control and get the holiday back on track and keep minds focused on family instead of tragedy. As he walks over to Troy and the turkey on the counter, he turns the television off.  
  
“Alright come on Troy. I’ll carry it if you carve it.” Bruce says with the lightest of tone he could manage.  
  
As he walks past Annie and her mother she looks at him through big eyes as if to silently say thank you. She then turns back to the counter and pours another glass of wine for everyone in attendance. After handing one to her mother, they both walk across the hall into the dining room and prepare to have as normal of a Thanksgiving dinner as possible after the events of ten minutes ago in downtown Gotham. 

XLV

The stage of the parade is covered in a pool of red liquid and the body of Harvey Dent. The rest of the Gotham City Police Department was summoned down to investigate the scene and evacuate everyone in the crowd. When the paramedics arrived on the scene, there was nothing they could do. Harvey Dent was pronounced dead at the scene.  
  
James Gordon stood at the podium in the same exact spot that Dent was not long ago. While looking down at his body, he can barely stomach what he sees. Harvey Dent once had such a handsome face and was photogenic in every angle. Now however, James Gordon looks down at a man who had half of his face blown off with just one bullet.  
  
Mario Falcone looks down next to Gordon while being covered in blood. James knew Mario said he looked up to Dent in the law enforcement career but now he is looking down at him in a way he never expected.  
  
“You don’t have to stay Mario. Get cleaned up and go home.” Gordon tells the new police lieutenant.  
  
Mario remains silent while looking at the horror in front of him. In his first day on the job as lieutenant, he gets showered in blood of someone he once admired. He doesn’t leave because he would have nowhere to go. In his mind he knew deep down that somehow his family name was connected to what lay in front of him.  
  
When Mario didn’t respond, Gordon began thinking that he was serious in this career. He could read the emotion, the horror on the face of the young lieutenant. Nothing can compare to witnessing something like this. In Gordon’s mind, he finally believes he made the right decision and that Mario Falcone is nothing like his father and brother.

XLVI

“They arrested my son! You put my family name in the media and they stormed my fucking mansion! Alberto was home and now he’s in G.C.P.D. holding! I should fucking kill you!”  
  
Floyd Lawton appeared to enter the office of the Iceberg Lounge at the wrong time. Carmine Falcone was angrier than he’d ever been. He was on the verge of taking the pistol in his jeans and putting it to the head of the fat British man across from him.  
  
Cobblepot didn’t deny the accusations against him either. He merely shook his head and welcomed Lawton into the office with open arms. As he greets the assassin, Carmine pulls the gun on the pair of them.  
  
“I just shot the D.A. of Gotham City and am to be believed as the best assassin. And you plan to shoot me?” Lawton retorts calmly to the pulling of the gun.  
  
‘IT’S YOUR FAULT!” Carmine yells back, pointing the gun directly at him.  
  
“Just because you’re a dead shot with a gun doesn’t mean I can’t kill you with one!”  
  
“Carmine, get out. Now.” Cobblepot interjects, pointing the end of his umbrella at the mob boss.  
  
Carmine allows a laugh to escape his lips as he stares down the barrel of an umbrella. The absurdity of the situation was all he needed to let his guard down. Only he was proven wrong quickly. Out of the end of the umbrella came the flash of a muzzle and the sound of a firecracker. The same sound as a gunshot followed by the window beside him shattering.  
  
“I said get out. Next time I won’t miss.” Cobblepot threatens again.  
  
Carmine leaves in a huff, throwing the chair behind him against the wall as he leaves the room. Cobblepot then turns his attention to Floyd, thanking him again for his service.  
  
“We can work together more often, you and I.” Cobblepot offers as he hands a briefcase with cash to the assassin.  
  
Floyd accepts the briefcase from him and turns towards the door.  
  
“I’ll give you another chance to get the bat. Same price as before.” Cobblepot yells after him.  
  
“I have a boss. I don’t work for you. You’ll be gone soon enough.” Lawton yells as the door slams behind him.  
  
XLVII

The G.C.P.D. was hectic and only getting worse as the night went on after the events of the afternoon. In James Gordon’s office, he is sitting with the new lieutenant and the two men are not having the nicest conversation after the events.  
  
“It’s protocol Mario. When you’re family could possibly be involved, there’s nothing else I can do. You have to be taken off the case.” Gordon explained to an unhappy Mario Falcone.  
  
“That’s all it is Commissioner. A family name. I’ve had this job for a God damn day! I worked for this! And now I’m off the case? It’s not fair Gordon.”  
Gordon had to take a breath before continuing the conversation and trying to remain calm.  
  
“Mario, you personally are not being investigated. Your family is. For what it’s worth, I finally believe you’re a part of the force now. I was concerned for a while that you were crooked for the longest time. I want you to be a part of us.”  
  
Mario Falcone was speechless. He didn’t know how to respond to the police commissioner. Instead, he takes a moment to calm himself down, take a deep breath and walk out of the room. The police commissioner sat at his desk alone for a few moments as his new lieutenant just left in a huff.  
  
Once he gathers himself, Gordon gets up and looks out a window in his office to the streets of Gotham. Today they lost a symbol of hope that Gotham could be a safe place. Dent stood for justice and what is right, just like the Batman. Now, the Batman is all that the city has left.  
  
A few rooms down the hall through the war room Gordon enters one of the G.C.P.D. holding areas. Behind one of the two way mirrors stands Harvey Bullock and Officer Nina Edge. Gordon greets them with a nod then opens the door, appearing on the other side. Sitting at a table across from him is a face very similar to the one that just left his office without a word; Alberto Falcone. 

XLVIII

A few hours after dinner was all cleaned up in the kitchen of Annie’s house, all four of the adults sat at the table in the dining room playing the popular board game Monopoly. Shirley had recently refilled their glasses of wine as Troy just took the lead in the game. Both Bruce and Troy had been looking forward to some of the college football that was supposed to be airing on the television but instead all they find are news stations repeating the same information on coverage of the Harvey Dent assassination.  
Bruce wasn’t paying much attention to the board game at all. Most of his mind was on the assassination just like everyone else watching the media. Bruce knew however it would be up to him to help find the killer and bring him to justice for what occurred on Thanksgiving.  
  
“You know, isn’t it ironic that Bruce Wayne is losing in a game of Monopoly?” Troy jokes as Bruce is brought out of his thoughts.  
  
Everyone at the table laughs and Bruce forces a smile to show he is still focused on what is going on. After he places houses on three properties and passes the turn to Annie, he pulls out his cellphone and checks the time, only to find a text message from his old British butler.  
  
“You’re needed. Now.”  
  
Sensing urgency and having a hunch what it is about, Bruce excuses himself from the table and explains that he is not feeling well.  
  
“I just think I ate too much. Plus this is the third bottle of wine we’re on and I still have to drive home.” He insisted as he stood to shake the hand of Annie’s father.  
  
“Just drive safely Bruce. That’s all that matters.” Troy responded as he shook the hand of the famous billionaire.  
  
“Let Annie know when you’re home so we all know you made it. I believe the forecast was calling for snow as well so hopefully you beat it home too!” Shirley explained as she also shook his hand.  
  
Annie then insisted she would walk Bruce to his car so she led him down the hallway to the front door where he was the gentleman and opened it for her.  
  
“And who said chivalry was dead?” Annie flirted as she took his hand on the walk to the car.  
  
“I believe what you said now Bruce. The way you were with my parents and everything that happened today, you helped so much. I think I’m going to buy into what you told me.”  
  
With that, she thanked him with a kiss on the lips. It was more than Bruce expected all around. Maybe a hug sure, but not the incredible softness of her pink lips with the hint of a red wine taste on them.  
  
Bruce was more than glad to watch her walk back into the house from the driver side of his GT-R. Perhaps he was able to convince her that he is serious but something told him he would still need to try more to prove his worth. As he drove away from her house back to his mansion, snow began to cover Gotham after a historical and tragic day. 

XLIX

It had been a few days since Mario had talked to his father. He did not however expect their next face to face meeting to go exactly as it did.  
  
Mario met his father at the snowy north Sionis Shipping Docks at night. It was his only place that Carmine could go where the police would not think to look.  
  
“I’m done. I’m off the case.” Mario tells his father after finally finding him in the break room near the water.  
  
“And what am I supposed to do Mario? I can’t live in the fucking shipping docks. It’s getting cold but I’m a wanted man. Where do I go? You have to use your position and get me clear.” Carmine pleaded with his son.  
  
“Because of you, my entire police career is in jeopardy. Something I actually wanted and now have. It’s all because of you and the name your family has given me.”  
  
Carmine was disgusted to hear his son talk this way, especially about his family. He spit at the feet of the man and shook his head as he finally decided to tell his son what he’s thought for a while.  
  
“You’re soft Mario. Alberto has always been the better son. I don’t get it. You’re older, stronger, and smarter. Yet Alberto is the one who gets the lead in the crime family. But wait, where is he now? Oh right, at your precious police department. You’re a disgrace. And I swear to God if you snitch out our family, your life will end.”  
  
“I fucking shot a man to save this family! Warren White is in jail because of me and your name was kept out of his mouth because of me. I wanted to be a cop as a kid before I knew about the so called family business. I wanted to be different from this family. Gordon started cleaning this place up. It’s only a matter of time before you’re taken in. I’m done with it.”  
  
“Fuck James Gordon.”  
  
Mario couldn’t listen to him anymore. Without another word to someone he used to call father, he pulled a hood over his head a crossed the snow back to his patrol car. In a few minutes he would be doing the right thing on the roof of the Gotham City Police Department. 

L

“I don’t know where you’ve been Master Bruce. I’ve been trying to contact you all night. I see you finally got my text message. Took me a bloody long time to send it.”  
  
Bruce had just descended the stairs into the cave below the manor when Alfred had started talking. He went over to the table and began to suit up but did not yet know where he would actually be going.  
  
“What have you found Alfred? Please tell me it’s good.”  
  
Alfred walked back across the cave over to the computer and sat down before talking again. What followed was not what Bruce wanted to hear.  
  
“I’ve found nothing Master Bruce. There’s no evidence anywhere, on any of these feeds.” Alfred indicated the numerous monitors showing many different angles of the parade from earlier that day.  
  
“There’s just one gun shot from far off and then Dent goes down. Unfortunately the police have contaminated the scene too much for you to go and find anything either.”  
  
Bruce had just gotten nearly everything on his body when he walked over to see what Alfred was indicating. As the two men watched the monitors for any new inclination of evidence, a small monitor was illuminated on the side desk. When Alfred and Bruce looked down at it, the bat signal was shown burning brightly into the snowy night sky.  
  
“Well I guess that’s a start.” Bruce said as he began walking over to the Batmobile with the cowl in his hand.  
  
“Keep watching the footage for any hope of finding something Alfred. I need to go see what Gordon wants to talk about.”

LI

Bruce didn’t have any idea what to expect from Gordon when he got to the roof of the G.C.P.D. As he landed on the roof and walked across the snow dusted concrete he saw the figure of a man standing next to the light shining into the sky.  
  
“Gordon?” Bruce called in his gravelly voice.  
  
There was no answer but the man turned and faced the Batman. He wore a hoodie so his face couldn’t be seen. Bruce’s instinct went to immediately grab a Bat-a-Rang.  
“I’m not Gordon. And I’m not here to hurt you. I have information that you and Gordon will need.”  
  
“Turn off the light and don’t move.” Bruce responded as he slowly closed the distance on the powder covered concrete towards the man near the light.  
  
The man in the hoodie did as he was told and allowed the Batman to come closer without any hesitation. When the two stood ten feet away, Bruce still could not see his face nor did he recognize the voice.  
  
“You all need to look for a man named Oswald Cobblepot. Most people that work for him call him the Penguin because of his appearance. He owns the Iceberg Lounge but isn’t there for the night. Probably tomorrow though.”  
  
Bruce remained silent, waiting to hear if this man happened to have any other random information about the men he was looking for.  
  
“The Penguin also hired a hit man to kill you and Harvey Dent. The Falcones and the Penguin want this city for themselves. With you and Dent out of the way, no one would stand before them. They have men in the G.C.P.D. No one would dare cross them. You have to stop them before it gets out of hand.”  
  
Bruce listened and thought for a moment as to the information he was given. Everything he said made sense but what if it only made sense because he wanted it to. Perhaps Bruce wanted answers so bad, he would automatically jump to conclusions from what a random man is saying.  
  
“Who are you?” Bruce asks as he takes a step forward towards the man behind the floodlight.  
  
That proved to be a big mistake as the man got scared and began to flee. In an attempt to slow down the Batman, he flipped the switch to illuminate the floodlight and turned its swivel to aim directly at the face of the Batman. While Bruce is blinded by the light, he hears heavy boots running towards the back side of the roof then clanging down a metal ladder or fire-escape.  
  
By the time Bruce was able to find the switch on the light and be able to see well enough to maneuver a roof, it was too late. All he was able to do was follow footprints to the edge of the roof and witness a squad car leaving the lot behind the precinct.  
  
Countless questions surrounded Bruce’s mind as he stood alone atop the G.C.P.D. building. Who was the man? Why and how did he have all of this information and was it even correct and reliable? But most of all, could he be trusted? Bruce really had no other choice. He had to listen to the man and something told him in his gut the man would turn out to be reliable more than he could ever know. 

LII

“I don’t understand? Why didn’t you go and get this Penguin tonight?” Alfred asked Bruce as he got back to the cave that night.  
  
“Because I wasn’t prepared Alfred. Besides, you heard what the man said through the radio. Cobblepot wasn’t there. I’m not going to waste my time if that’s the case.”  
  
Bruce began to take off his suit as he and Alfred walked back across the cave to the table. Bruce had thanked Alfred for sitting at the computer and listening to everything the man had said.  
  
“So who do you think he was?” Alfred asks as they stand around the table in front of the file cabinets.  
  
“I have a hunch and I’m pretty sure I’m right.” Bruce says as he sits on the table to take off his boots.  
  
“The man mentioned the Falcone family first of all. Then add that with the information and knowledge he seemed to have would really only suggest one thing; he had a change of heart. The boot prints on the roof lead off to the lot where I saw a squad car driving away. I truly think it was Mario Falcone.”  
  
LIII

The next day in the north shipping docks of Sionis Industries, Mario Falcone has a gun pulled on him for the first time in his life. What makes it worse is the fact that his father is the one on the other side of it.  
  
“This is the safest way out of the mess. Gordon trusts the Bat. No one is going to die this way. It’s either you get arrested or you die in a standoff with the G.C.P.D.”  
  
Carmine refuses to listen to his son and keeps the gun pointed on his chest.  
  
“You’re no son of mine. I’m offended and disgusted by your actions Mario.”  
  
“I feel no shame. I did the right fucking thing. I refuse to rot in prison like you and Alberto. Go on then. If you really don’t care, pull that trigger. That’s just another thing you’ll be wanted for: murdering a police officer.”  
  
Carmine didn’t hear a word Mario was saying. Anger rose in his body as he was talking and eventually reached the boiling point where all he heard in his ears was ringing. Two shots were fired from the gun in Carmine’s hand, straight into the chest of Mario Falcone. He fell backwards onto the hood of his squad car with a pool of blood behind him.  
  
Pulling on his winter gloves from his pocket, Carmine walks over to the squad car and turns the keys to start it up and turns it towards Gotham Bay. He takes Mario from the hood and sits in him the driver seat with both hands on the wheel. On the ground, he finds a boulder strong enough to push the gas pedal down and keep it there.  
  
When he places the rock on the pedal, he quickly steps back as the vehicle begins to speed towards the water. Carmine Falcone stands silently, feeling no remorse whatsoever as he watches the man he once called his son be plunged to the depths of Gotham Harbor. 

LIV

When night came the day after the tragic events of Thanksgiving, it was finally time for Bruce to head to the Iceberg Lounge. The problem that he encountered was the lounge was filled with people, loud music and flashing lights.  
  
The lounge was a large circle with one giant elevated stage in the middle of a big room. On the outskirts of the room branched off to several different rooms each separated by a curtain. At this point, all the curtains on the outer rooms were pulled, causing Bruce to have to walk through the dark center room.  
  
While standing in the middle, he used his detective vision to search for a door that may lead to an office. Through the flashing multi-colored lights, he was finally able to pick one out directly across from the main entrance and behind the center stage where two scantily clad women were erotically dancing with each other for the pleasure of the men sitting in front of them.  
  
Somehow, Bruce managed to make it through the entire room without being stopped by anyone dancing or seeing him in the club. He did not know how it happened but all that mattered was Oswald Cobblepot being on the other side of the door.  
  
When Bruce opened it, the office was much smaller than he expected. There was only one window overlooking the entrance to the club. The lights were dim and one bulb was even burnt out. There were two wooden chairs sitting in front of a shabby wooden desk.  
  
Standing behind the desk is the man Bruce wanted to see the most. He wore a tuxedo with a matching top hat lying beside him on the wood. His nose was long and pointy like a beak and he looked down it through a monocle. In his hand he twirled an umbrella that Bruce sensed had more tricks than just stopping the rain. When he heard the door open he looked up from his umbrella twirling and smiled under his beaked nose.  
  
“Greetings Batman! I was wondering when you would show up. I will admit though, it took a ‘ell of a lot longer than I expected!”

LV

“Where are the Falcones?” Bruce asks the man in his deep voice, not wanting to play any games.  
  
“Falcone? I don’t think I’ve ever ‘eard that name in my life.” Penguin responds.  
  
Getting angry now, Bruce begins to raise his voice. “You hired someone to kill Harvey Dent and myself.”  
  
“Is that a question or accusation? Either way Batman, I’m not seeing a problem with what I did.” Cobblepot retorted with a wide smile under his beaked nose.  
  
The Penguin continued to twirl his umbrella as he paced the area of hardwood floor behind his desk. Every now and again, he would peer at Bruce from behind his monocle and wait patiently for him to ask another question. Secretly, he was waiting for violence to erupt in the office between the two men.  
  
“I don’t understand why you’re doing this. You won’t win. James Gordon cleaned up the police department. Small criminals are off of the streets. You’re wasting your time.”  
  
“I see your point Batman. You do ‘onestly ‘ave some good ones there. But ‘ere’s the thing. The city has always been ours.” Cobblepot began.  
  
“We’ve ran this city from its inception. There ‘ave been policemen and cops under our thumb for years just buying us time until we gained enough ground. Sure Gordon has tried to turn it round. Then you came along and did one ‘ell of a job. But it’s time to take back my city.”  
  
At the end of his monologue, The Penguin turned on the Batman and pointed the umbrella straight at him. Bruce was confused as to why until he saw the flash like lightning and heard a sound like thunder. In his right thigh was an excruciating pain that caused him to severely limp when he tried to walk. Luckily the blood was contained inside the suit and didn’t run down and trail on the floor.  
  
Bruce stumbled backwards at the impact of the shot and managed to get out into the crowd. The darkness of the room made it incredibly difficult to see where he was able to walk but he eventually made it through a sea of people and out into the streets. Making sure he left no red dots in the white snow on the ground, he staggered back to the Batmobile and sped back to Alfred as fast as possible for medical attention.  
  
XLVI

On Bruce’s way to the cave, he managed to get in contact with Alfred and alert him to what he would need. When he arrived and parked the Batmobile on its pad, he quickly pulled off the cowl and hobbled up the steps as quickly as possible.  
  
Alfred rushes over to the top of the steps and takes Bruce’s arm over his shoulder, helping him towards to the table behind the computer. He sets him down and takes the opportunity to get the first look at the wound on the Batman’s leg.  
  
“You’re lucky Master Bruce. The bullet isn’t in your leg.” Alfred explains as he is able to clean the area and survey the damage.  
  
“Are you sure? It sure the hell feels like it.” Bruce responds, grimacing from the uncomfortableness of the wound.  
  
“It hit a chink in your armor sir. It grazed the skin which is causing the burning feeling. The pain and throbbing I believe is just caused by the impact. There was barely even any blood.”  
  
The butler begins to help his master out of the suit since the pain was still too much for Bruce to bear while he didn’t need to. As Bruce is nearly finished, he thanks his friend and explains what the Penguin is trying to do.  
  
“He wants control of the city. He believes Gordon and I are the only ones standing in the way and he’ll stop at nothing until we’re out of his. And I don’t know what the hell makes his umbrella so powerful.” He explains to Alfred as he puts the suit back on the table.  
  
“I understand Bruce. But you’re going to have to rest at least a day before you are able to go back and face him 100% again.”  
  
As Alfred helps Bruce up the steps, he feels his cellular device hitting against his leg in the pocket of his white gym shorts. For the first time, he wonders if it is time for Dick Grayson to come home and assist him in the endeavors he promised before he sent him away. 

LVII

Two days after the tragic events of Thanksgiving, Alberto Falcone still sits in one of the interrogation rooms in the G.C.P.D. Every day he is questioned over and over yet he remains silent except when he has to use the restroom or ask for a spot of food. Gordon had been incredibly frustrated with his lack of cooperation up until this point. Today however, he had a different bone to pick with Alberto.  
  
“Your brother never showed up for his shift. He took off the other night when I removed him from this case? You know where he is?” Gordon questions as he sits down opposite a handcuffed and shabby looking Alberto Falcone.  
  
Alberto remains silent once again as he looks across the table at the police commissioner of Gotham City. He could see frustration mounting in his face so Alberto begins to smile at the commissioner, trying to provoke him to act out and he gets exactly what he wants.  
  
“Where the fuck are your brother and father!?” Gordon yells as he stands up and knocks his cup of coffee to the ground from the table. Apparently that’s all it takes to get Alberto to talk but in a sarcastic tone.  
“How would I know commish? I’ve been here with you since Thursday.”  
  
Even though Alberto finally spoke, James Gordon almost prefers he hadn’t. All it did was anger him more. He was also hesitant to ask the question he wanted to most but odds are the only chance of getting an answer was now and even those were slim.  
  
“Was Mario involved in the crime family? In all of this?”  
  
Alberto once again stared at Gordon and smiled without opening his mouth for a sound. Having had enough, Gordon reached into his pocket to call Mario from his cellphone right there when Harvey Bullock burst through the door in a rush.  
  
“Sir, we tracked the GPS of the squad car that Mario was in last. I don’t understand it though. It says it’s in Gotham Bay, right next to the Sionis Shipping Yards.”

LVIII

Gordon had been waiting for the tow truck to arrive for thirty minutes as he paced the snowy ground of the northern shipping grounds of Sionis Industries. He waited inside a guard outpost to avoid the cold with Nina Edge and Harvey Bullock. There was nothing but a desk and a chair in the outpost which seemed odd that everything else was missing.  
  
Once the tow truck arrives, they hand the cable from its rear to a diver waiting in the water. It took no time at all to find the vehicle submerged since it was right off of the dock in the water. When the diver surfaces and gives the signal to the truck operator, Gordon has a sinking feel in his stomach. Somewhere in the back of his mind, something tells him that Mario Falcone will be in the car coming out of the harbor.  
  
The water pours out of the car as it is pulled farther and farther onto the land. Once all four tires had hit the pavement, Gordon’s hunch had been confirmed. Mario Falcone sat bloated and somewhat unrecognizable in the driver seat of the G.C.P.D. squad car. Shaking his head a looking down, Gordon goes to his vehicle to call in a C.S.I. unit and then leaves to go tell Alberto Falcone about his brother. 

LIX

Bruce and Annie step out of his GT-R outside of the Gotham Mall at the heart of the city. Annie called earlier that day and asked if he’d like to join her while shopping at the Macys there. Bruce, being the gentleman he is, would never turn down the opportunity.  
  
As the two walk across the brightly lit parking lot, Bruce thinks to himself that the mall will be putting up Christmas decorations on the lights come tomorrow, which would symbolize the twenty-five days until Christmas. When the couple gets near the door, Annie notices that Bruce had been limping a bit as they walked hand in hand.  
  
“Why are you limping Bruce?” She asked in a high voice which implied genuine concern.  
  
“Oh I was playing hockey yesterday. Blocked a shot on the thigh where I didn’t have much padding. I’ve got a nice little bruise. But it’s nothing to worry about.” He responded as he reached out and opened the door for his beautiful date.  
  
The Macys store wasn’t as crowed as Bruce was expecting, though there were still a hefty amount of people. Another thing Bruce liked about Annie was the fact that she was a go-getter. She walked into the store and took the lead towards whatever she needed. Bruce was of course the good date and followed patiently as any man should while his date is shopping. He even threw in the occasional “This would look great on you!”  
  
After only about an hour, Annie had three blouses in her hand, an ugly Christmas sweater for a party at work, and two night gowns; one pink and one blue. Bruce loved the fact she was confident in her body and picked out things she liked and was comfortable, even though she wasn’t the size of a stick or a model. The pros of being with her just keep adding up…  
  
As they walk back to Bruce’s car, he has her bags in one hand while holding her hand in his other one. He was tired of limping and could feel the throbbing in his leg getting better but he knew that the Batman could not make an appearance tonight.  
  
“I was wondering… Do you want to come over to get some pizza and watch a movie? Nothing more either mister!” Annie asks with a very surprising and firm emphasis on the last sentence.  
  
Bruce of course agrees to accompany her back to her house. He had no plans of any kind to try and make any sort of move on her, especially in the first four months (that was his rule of thumb, unless initiated by the other half). As Bruce pulls his GT-R out of the mall parking lot and towards Annie’s house in west Gotham, he drives past the G.C.P.D. building. Shining brightly above the tall white marble building is the illumination of a bat high in the sky.  
  
For the second time in the same amount of nights, Bruce thinks how useful Dick Grayson would be if he was here in Gotham assisting Bruce instead of training miles away in Metropolis. Perhaps he is ready to come home. 

LX

“Your brother is dead. Shot in the chest them dumped in the bay, Falcone style. How does that make you feel Alberto?” Gordon said as he appeared in front of Alberto Falcone’s holding cell in the G.C.P.D.  
  
Alberto didn’t move from his bed at the presence of the police commissioner but Gordon could see his face. For a brief second, signs of emotion and sympathy crossed his cheeks and eyes but it was quickly washed away and Alberto became stone-faced once more and remained silent.  
  
“Do you have anything left to say or not say before you’re charged with obstruction of justice and being an accomplice to a murder?” Gordon threatened, hoping he could pull something out of him.  
  
Alberto slowly sat up from his cot and looked directly into the face of James Gordon.  
  
“Mario was a no brother of mine. He is a disgrace to the family name and my father. He wanted to be a cop as a child and my father pushed it only for the fact he could corrupt him. But you commissioner, you changed that. He became a pussy. He backed out of the family, abandon us. Because of you. If you ask me, he got what he deserved. My father put him in his right place.”  
  
Now it was Gordon’s turn to remain silent. Alberto slowly lay back down on his cot and stared at the ceiling, not even acknowledging the presence of Gordon any longer. His mind was trying to comprehend everything that Alberto just said. Mario was a good man. He left his family and wanted nothing to do with them.  
  
Gordon sprinted through the police department, past Mario’s old desk and to the roof. He dashed through the white powder to the flood light on the other end. After flipping the switch, Gordon waited for the Batman to show. He waited for over an hour until he decided his time was just wasted away. The Batman never showed. 

LXI

The following day marked the first day of December and twenty-five days until Christmas. Bruce awoke to a coffee table littered with two empty bottles of wine and six empty beer bottles. The pair of them had fallen asleep watching a movie about glorified pirates by a company that tried to make pirates a kid friendly theme.  
  
Once he finally found the remote which was hidden underneath a pizza box which only contained one slice, he flipped the television to the local news channel. He was hoping to find the score of the Knights game last night that he missed by spending time with Annie. It was a commercial when he arrived on the station so Bruce helped himself to that last piece of pizza from the box that concealed the remote.  
  
When the news station came back in, the older female anchor began a breaking news story instead of the weather like the news scroller on the side said was up next.  
  
“We have some breaking news here at Gotham City Metro News. There is a massive manhunt out for the known mob boss Carmine Falcone. The Gotham City Police Department just issued a statement asking for any aid from the citizens and to call the number on the screen if you have any information. Commissioner Gordon also specifically asked for the Batman’s aid in stopping this dangerous criminal.”  
  
Bruce sat there stunned as he continued to listen to the news anchors. He heard one of them say this is the Batman’s best chance to publicly help the city and gain approval, especially since the G.C.P.D. is asking for his help personally.  
  
“I still don’t understand why people put their faith in a masked man who runs around at night beating people up.” Came Annie’s voice.  
  
Bruce didn’t know she was awake on the sofa across from the chair he was sleeping in. She was still snuggled under her blanket but she was intently watching the news broadcast on her television.  
  
“I don’t know Annie. I think the Batman is trying to help people. He is a sign that people don’t have to be afraid to leave their house at night. I don’t mind him personally.”  
  
Annie stood up and shrugged her shoulders to Bruce’s comment as she stretched. Bruce couldn’t help but admire he features in the yoga pants and tank top she had fallen asleep in. While Annie was not the most fit and model-esque girl in the world, in Bruce’s mind, she could wear a poncho and still be one of the most beautiful girls he’d ever seen. Once again, he shoved thoughts of Vicki Vale out of mind.  
  
“Eggs and bacon alright for breakfast?” she asks as she grabs the empty wine bottles and walks down the hall back into the kitchen.  
  
“Just eggs for me. I am not a fan of bacon.” Bruce called from his chair.  
  
He stood up stretched his arms above his head while the Radiohead t-shirt rose up with his arms. He wondered if Annie would buy him a new Radiohead shirt if he asked nicely. While he began to gather the beer bottles and pizza boxes from the table, Annie appeared back in the doorway and gave Bruce an incredibly serious look and tone.  
  
“You don’t like bacon? Are you shitting me Bruce? While you’re at my house, you’re either going to eat bacon or get out.”  
  
At the nook in the kitchen, Bruce and Annie sat side by side while Bruce loaded his plate with eggs and a single piece of bacon. To his side, he could see Annie smiling at his lone piece of pork fat. On the television on the counter, the Gotham City Metro news station just cut to a press conference showing a quote from Commissioner James Gordon.  
  
“If the Batman really wants to help this city and prove his worth, now is the time for him to do so.”

LXII

That afternoon after Bruce had left Annie’s house, he headed straight for the Batcave when he arrived home. Once again he met Alfred at the computer who had already begun trying to track Carmine Falcone.  
  
“You know I considered calling Dick the other night?” Bruce announces as he reaches the bottom step of the cave.  
  
Alfred stopped doing whatever he was doing on the computer and turned to face Bruce as he walked closer to him. After a moment of consideration, he tells Bruce why he believes that isn’t a good idea.  
  
“I don’t think he’s ready Master Bruce. I really don’t. He’s only been there for a few months, he could have only learned so much. And how are you going to introduce a sidekick to a city that doesn’t fully trust you first?”  
  
Bruce is silent for a moment, considering the rebuttal Alfred suggested. Ultimately, he agrees that he is correct.  
  
“So where do I start then Alfred? What do I do to stop Falcone and Cobblepot while gaining the trust of the city?”  
  
“You work with the G.C.P.D. Bruce.” Alfred responded instantly.  
  
Bruce stood with his back to the computers and watching Alfred as he tried to gain advice from a wise man. Alfred was turned sideways in his chair and expecting Bruce to not listen to anything he said while secretly hoping he takes everything to heart.  
  
“Tell Commissioner Gordon about Mario Falcone talking to you. Tell them what you know about Cobblepot. You have to work with them to earn their trust. Communication is key.”  
  
“I don’t work for the police Alfred. I never will.” Bruce bites back a bit offended.  
  
“I’m not saying you do Bruce. I’m not. I’m saying you have to work WITH them. Working for someone and with someone is completely different. You want the trust of the city, earn it.”  
  
Deep down, Bruce knew Alfred was right. He would have to swallow his pride and help the police. He was always determined to work alone but after meeting Dick and getting into the things that he knows the Batman will face, help will eventually be the only way the Batman will survive. Now he has to take that pill and provide assistance to the police force. Come nightfall, Bruce will be the one operating the floodlight atop the G.C.P.D. and wait for Gordon.  
  
LXIII

Bruce stood atop the Gotham City Police Department in the snow waiting for James Gordon. He knew Gordon would find out when the Bat signal was on but he had to wait patiently. Standing there, Bruce looked around the city he was trying to save as he waited and watched the snow fall from the sky.  
  
A loud crash from the other side of the roof drew Bruce’s full attention. Jim Gordon crashed through the stairwell door in front of the larger, heavier Harvey Bullock. Both men had their hands on their guns, expecting a fight. When Gordon saw the Batman, he loosened his grip on the weapon, but Bullock did not.  
  
“It’s me Gordon. We need to talk in private.” he calls across the roof.  
  
Gordon turns to Bullock and nods for him to go downstairs. Bullock doesn’t move at first, his hand still on his weapon. Gordon tells him to go once again and finally he leaves, eyes still locked onto the Batman from across the roof.  
  
“Mario Falcone visited me here Thursday night.” Bruce tells Gordon as the two converge on the floodlight.  
  
“He’s dead now.” Gordon responds bluntly.  
  
“I know. He told me about a man named Oswald Cobblepot who is better known as the Penguin. The Falcones and Cobblepot wanted me and Dent out of the way so no one obstructs them. He also said that they have men inside the G.C.P.D.”  
  
Gordon listened quietly as the Batman told this story. Of course the thoughts that Mario really was on his side crossed his mind but then anger for why he didn’t tell him was beyond recognition.  
  
“So I went and saw this Cobblepot at the Iceberg Lounge. Mario told me that’s where I’d find him. He shot me with his umbrella but I got some information. He admitted to hiring an assassin to kill of Dent and I. He also confirmed that there are crooked cops and politicians and he wants to take the city back.”  
  
Gordon was speechless. The Batman was here helping and he had no idea what to say. Everything here wouldn’t stand up in court because of the ‘he say-she say’ aspect of it. With nothing else to do, he does something Bruce did not expect.  
  
“So what do we do now? We’re a team so what do we do?” Gordon asked.  
  
“We know we can put the Falcones away for a while but this Cobblepot will be the problem. It will be up to you to bring him in. I’ll handle the penguin.”  
  
The Batman remained quiet as he pulled out a pen and grabbed Gordon’s hand. He began writing a radio frequency on his palm then dropped the writing utensil.  
  
“Contact me when you’re ready to strike. I’ll help you. Until then, I’ll do my best to get evidence on Oswald Cobblepot.”  
  
“But how will you know it’s my frequency contacting you?” Gordon called after him as he began to walk towards the edge of the roof.  
  
“I hacked your radio months ago. I’m finally giving you a pass on mine.” Replied the Batman as he flew off into the night.  
  
LXIV

Carmine Falcone had not shaved in a few days and looked a little worse for wear. He’s had the same shirt on since he murdered his son and appeared to be lacking a comb. Inside the office of the Iceberg Lounge, Carmine is anxious about being caught by the cops or the Batman.  
  
“Calm down Falcone. There isn’t anything you need to worry about.” Cobblepot assured him.  
  
“I saw the news this morning at my Cousin Salvatore’s house. The cops asked the Batman for help! There’s gotta be something you can do!”  
  
“I said calm down Falcone! Go figure you’re the one who is freaking out over this. Listen. The Batman works alone. I’ve been watching ‘im since the first Black Mask incident. ‘e breaks too many laws to work with the police. I bet you it’s a ploy to arrest ‘im.”  
  
Carmine is silent for a moment, thinking about the possibilities. On one hand, the Batman does break many laws and Cobblepot could be completely right about this being a ruse. On the other hand, the Batman has already found out about Cobblepot and the mob’s business. It could go both ways.  
  
“What about our money? We could use it to pay off the cops we own. Plus I could use some of it too since all of my stuff is being monitored by the police.”  
  
Cobblepot looked down at the papers on his desk as he sits down behind it.  
  
“The money is untraceable and inactive overseas at the moment. I’m the only one with access and to be safe, I sent it away until this blows over. We still both own it so don’t even get on me for that. I just sent it away.”  
  
Carmine begins pacing after he learns the fate of his money. He can do nothing but stay in his cousin’s home until it blows over. The problem is Salvatore Maroni is also involved in the mob’s business.  
  
“Listen Carmine. The Bat will come for one of us. It will probably be me seeing I shot ‘im and ‘e probably wants revenge. That leaves the police still looking for you. So leave the city. Go to Metropolis or Star City; somewhere close enough yet far enough away. ‘ere. Take this and be gone tomorrow.”  
  
Cobblepot threw an unmarked envelope at Carmine from behind the desk. When he looked inside there was enough money for a bus ticket, a haircut, and a penthouse suit for at least a week.  
  
“I’ll call you back when I kill the Bat.” Penguin tells him.  
  
LXV

Wayne Enterprises was being decorated for the winter holidays come first thing that Monday. On the big wall in the lobby was a countdown to Christmas now reading twenty-four days. In Bruce’s office many floors above, the holiday cheer was nowhere to be found. Christmas was one of his least favorite holidays, only trailing Valentine’s Day and Columbus Day. Thanksgiving was closely being Christmas. However out in the lobby that leads to many other offices including Fox’s, there was a small fake Christmas tree all decorated and bright. Behind the desk where Annie sat outside of Fox’s office was a menorah. Bruce wondered if it belonged to Annie then realized neither of them had ever discussed religion in any fashion.  
  
Annie was sitting on the side of Bruce’s desk while Bruce was relaxed in his chair. Even in a business suit, he liked to kick his feet onto the desk and lean back in his overly priced office chair with wheels that spun.  
  
“I’d like my intern back when you’re done flirting with her, Mr. Wayne.” Lucius Fox said from the doorway instead of knocking.  
  
Annie quickly jumped to her feet startled because her boss had just caught her away from her desk.  
  
“I’m so sorry Mr. Fox, I was just checking with Mr. Wayne about some-“Annie began to plea.  
  
“Annie, Annie its fine. Lucius knows about us. Just head back to your desk, I’ll talk to you later.”  
  
Without another word to Bruce but a nod to her boss, Annie briskly walked out of Bruce’s office in her white flats and black skirt and plopped right down behind her desk. Bruce turned to Lucius smiling after watching her walk then motioned with his hand to close the door.  
  
“I need some new armor Lucius.” Bruce said as the door swung closed.  
  
“I got shot in the leg on Thanksgiving. It went through the mesh and grazed my skin but who’s to say next time I’ll be so lucky?”  
  
“Does Annie know about your little knightly escapades?” Lucius asked, completely different from what Bruce is expecting.  
  
“Believe it or not, she likes playing hard to get. I’m not even sure we’re dating seriously. Just… dating. It’s weird. But no, to answer your question.” Bruce laughs in response.  
  
“I’ll bring over some extra plates to install in the chinks of the armor. It’ll slow you down a little bit but you’ll certainly be more protected… Oh and Mr. Wayne, I really like this intern. Please don’t mess things up.” Lucius finished as he walked out of the door and back into his office.  
  
“Why does everyone think because my name is Bruce Wayne and I have money, I’m the biggest dick when it comes to females and relationships!?” Bruce asks himself, perhaps being more serious than he needed to be…

LXVI

James Gordon is sitting in his office doing more paperwork. He sometimes wonders if the title Commissioner just means he has to do more paperwork than the title of Lieutenant. As he was finishing up a report about a stabbing in the parking lot of the Gotham Rogues stadium, Officer Nina Edge bursts into his office unannounced and very urgent.  
  
“I’m not even thinking about the promotion at the moment Ms. Edge. Now is not the time.”  
  
“While I still think I am highly qualified and ready for the position of lieutenant, I am not here to talk about that. I have information on Carmine Falcone.”  
  
Gordon drops his pen and looks up at Officer Edge.  
  
“What do you mean? He basically fell off the face of the earth after he murdered Mario.”  
  
“Yes, he did. But no one looked into his extended family. He has a cousin named Salvatore Maroni. And guess what, from his records it looks like he has mob ties as well.”  
  
LXVII

Commissioner Gordon stands before his officers in the war room of the G.C.P.D. Looking out, he sees the faces of many diverse police officers and thinks about what the Batman said… The mob has men in your office.  
  
Shaking that thought and getting back to business, Gordon begins briefing the officers on what they’re about to do.  
  
“We now have a possible location of Carmine Falcone. Officer Edge suggested we check out his relative Salvatore Maroni. Maroni does not have a warrant for arrest UNLESS Carmine Falcone is there. Now he does have mob ties by relation and a few minor charges regarding money. His residence is in South Gotham so we’re gonna have to fly. Officer Edge sent the address to all squad cars’ GPS units. Now let’s go get this son of a bitch!”  
  
Gordon grabs Officer Edge and Detective Bullock and tells them they’re riding with him. There’s only four other squad cars going and he wants to do this quickly and quietly. As they all run for the car, Gordon pulls out the piece of paper with the radio frequency. Before the cars pull out of the lot, he presses the button on the radio to speak with the Batman. The time to strike is now.  
  
LXVIII

Standing around the table where the Batsuit lays are Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth and Lucius Fox. Next to the suit, Fox has a briefcase of countless little plates that are to be installed on the armor. The holes aren’t very big but there’s so many of them that three people working on it makes their installation go much faster.  
  
“So you said this will make me slower?” Bruce asked as he put on a plate near the right thigh, the location where he got shot.  
  
“Well, you will be more protected against knives and gunfire. And it will only make you slower if you don’t work out and become stronger! Ever think of that? Lucius asked joking.  
  
Over at the computer, an abrupt radio static interrupts the conversation at the table behind it. Bruce recognizes the voice coming through the static immediately.  
  
“Hello? I hope this thing is working. Batman? We think we found Falcone. Go get Cobblepot tonight. We can get them both at the same time. Now’s our chance.”  
  
The frequency ended as the three men looked at each other, then down to the suit of armor Bruce was already strapping on.  
  
LXIX

“You’re working for the police now Mr. Wayne?” Lucius asked with a serious tone.  
  
“This is the only way I can get on the good side of both the police department and the city. If I am going to continue doing this, I can’t have the potential of the police following me and taking me in along with the other criminals.” Bruce responds to Fox as he would swear Alfred had a smile on his face.  
  
As Bruce continues to suit up standing at the table with Lucius and Alfred, he begins to give orders as to what Alfred should do.  
  
“I’ll turn the cowl’s communicator on so you can hear everything that happens tonight. Keep an eye on where the G.C.P.D. are and what’s going on with Falcone. You can track their cars or just listen in on Gordon’s radio.”  
  
Alfred nods as he swiftly walks a few yards and sits down in the computer chair. Bruce then addresses Lucius now wearing everything but the cowl.  
  
“Thank you for the plates. I do feel heavier but I guess that means more push-ups! Let’s go put this to the test!”  
  
Lucius smiles as he sits down on the table and watches the two men. He then thinks to himself that this has become an almost daily routine that the two do. It wouldn’t be happening if it wasn’t for him either. Lucius doesn’t know whether to feel good or scared at the same time for that reason.  
  
“Alfred you mind if I stay here and find out what happens first hand? I’m not big on watching the news unless I have to.” Lucius calls over to the butler at the computer.  
  
“You sure you don’t wanna dress up as Master Bruce in your suit?” Alfred called back laughing as Lucius sat down by his side.  
  
On the other side of the cave, the Batmobile starts its massive engine to a powerful echo around the cave walls. Hundreds of bats swarm down towards the sound and lights as the vehicle speeds out of the cave on its way to the heart of Gotham City. 

LXX  
The tension is high and anticipation is through the roof of Gordon’s squad car. Nina Edge sat in the passenger seat as Harvey Bullock sat in the back while Gordon sped down the highway to Maroni’s mansion in South Gotham.  
  
Behind the steering wheel, Gordon’s mind continues to race faster than the car he’s driving. His main concern is if Carmine Falcone isn’t there, what do they do next? The authorities don’t have enough evidence to detain or charge Salvatore Maroni with anything substantial. All they can do is hope Falcone is there when they arrive and no one gets hurt…  
  
Three other squad cars are behind Gordon as they fly down the exit ramp towards the Maroni mansion. After a few turns on the narrow streets, the officers arrive at a large brown mansion at the end of a pretty expensive looking cul-de-sac. One of the rivers in Gotham flow directly behind the house while the other houses feature extravagant woodlands instead of the river.  
  
The squad cars pull up directly in front of the mansion in the circle. One pulls sideways to block the driveway so no one could leave from this side. All of the officers get out of their car and routinely stay hidden behind their open doors. Gordon takes a breath and follows suit, remembering his days during training when they would practice things like this.  
  
He took a second to look around at all the officers near him. Nina Edge was poised and ready and willing to take charge. A few other officers look incredibly nervous while to others seem to be just another day at the rodeo. When Gordon looks at Harvey Bullock, he gets a different vibe. Bullock looks anxious but not nervous about entering the residence. He’s broken into a sweat and his breathing is slower for a man his size, like he’s trying to control it.  
  
Gordon gathers his thoughts and prepares to go towards the building. As he takes a few steps forward he looks up and secretly admires the mansion in front of him. The house had way too many rooms and floors for his taste but still one of those places to admire. But there was a face in the front window staring down at him. A face he’d see too many times to mistake, even though most times it had been the man’s family. Carmine Falcone locked eyes with Gordon for a split second before vanishing from sight behind a curtain.  
  
“He’s here. Let’s get in there now. You two, go around back. Nina, call SWAT for back up just in case. All of you, on me.”  
  
LXXI

On the end of a California King Bed is a piece of luggage that’s been shoved full of random assorted shirts, pants and underwear. Carmine Falcone runs from the dresser to the luggage, apparently not convinced it was full.  
  
“You’re sure the police won’t find you here?” asked a man who just appeared in the doorway of the bedroom.  
  
He was a taller male built very much like he played football in his younger years. If it wasn’t for him being half bald and middle-aged, he could pull off the appearance of a grizzled veteran for the Gotham Rogues.  
  
“They might show up, they might not. I don’t know Sal. But I know I can’t be in the city any longer.”  
  
Carmine finally realized the bag was full and feverishly began searching under the bed for another. Much to his displeasure, there was no bag. As he gets back to his feet, he sees Sal standing straight up and looking at him with a very serious and angry face.  
  
“What am I supposed to do then when they do come Carmine?” Sal asked, taking a step closer to his cousin.  
  
“You… You… You could come with me! They can’t take you to prison if you’re not here when they get here! But if they do, it will only be for a few days at most. I’m not worried about you at all Sal. It’s me they want. ”  
  
Police sirens are now audible speeding south towards the river. The same river that is behind the mansion that Falcone is standing in. Upon hearing them, Carmine swiftly zips the luggage on the bed which has no sheets and throws it over his shoulder. When Carmine goes to leave the bedroom, Salvatore blocks the door with his massive frame.  
  
“So much for family, huh Carmine? You’d throw me under the bus just so you could get away. Well guess what? If I’m going in, you’re going in with me.”  
  
Carmine tried his best to muscle around his larger cousin of about the same age. The sirens quickly got closer as the struggle continued until they abruptly stopped maybe 100 feet away. Carmine stopped fighting and walked over to the window covered with black satin curtains. He barely looked out and down until he locked eyes with the police commissioner of Gotham City.  
  
“They’re here. If you need to get rid of anything incriminating, do it now. I’m sure they’ll be taking you in along with me.”  
  
LXXII

Bruce was expecting to have to evacuate the Iceberg Lounge before he entered. Alfred was ready to electronically pull the fire alarm at that Batcave so Bruce would have an easy entrance and hurt no one in the process. Yet when Bruce arrived at the club, there was no one in sight. No cars were parked in front or in the lot. There was no loud music heard through the brick walls. Something was off.  
  
Bruce made his way into the club and past the entryway where people under 21 get their hands stamped. The large circular room can be seen from this point. It is now brightly light and colorful with no people dancing; completely the opposite from the last time Bruce was here.  
  
Before he barges in, Bruce mentally try’s to prepare, expecting a trap. From this angle, he can’t see anyone or anything except a small section of the room. He hears Alfred say something about being prepared but is interrupted by the frequency of a microphone being held to close to something electronic.  
  
“I know you’re ‘ear Batman. Don’t you want to see my show?” came the voice of Oswald Cobblepot through the entire club.  
  
Bruce took a deep breath then walked straight into the main room. Inside, he found Oswald Cobblepot standing in the middle of the elevated circular stage. He had on his same usual tuxedo, complete with monocle and top hat. In one hand was the umbrella that he used to shoot Bruce. In the other was the microphone being used to project his words.  
  
“Give it up Cobblepot. The Falcones are done for. Mario is dead while Alberto and Carmine are arrested!” Bruce called in his deep gravelly voice as he entered the main room.  
  
“’hat’s even better! Detective Bullock will kill Gordon for me. Which means all I ‘ave to do is kill you and the city is mine!”  
  
Bruce’s hand quickly shot to his Bat-a-rangs and throws it at the man standing center stage. The metal goes to high and nocks the hat off of the man’s head, revealing some balding black hair. Cobblepot quickly raises his umbrella and fires three shots at the Batman but he was prepared. The curtain to the private room next to him was open and Bruce was able to dive into the room and behind the wall before he was hit.  
  
Bruce knew he was pinned down and couldn’t show his face on that side of the curtain or room. The benefit of the club being open is that all of the private rooms are available. Each room has a curtain in front and on both sides, essentially creating a hallway around the entire club.  
  
The only way to beat him was to get behind him. Bruce was lucky to get away from the original three shots but he doesn’t feel like taking his chances with anything else. He feels around on his belt for flash bang or smoke grenades, both of which are present.  
  
“Alfred, you’re still listening right?” Bruce said into his cowl.  
  
“Of course sir. I heard the shots. Are you alright?”  
  
“I’m fine. I’m pinned down by his gun but I have a plan. You can see the blueprint of the lounge on the computer. Tell me, the private rooms make a hallway around the club right?”  
  
“Essentially, yes they do.  
  
“And the door to Cobblepot’s office is directly behind the stage in the middle?  
  
“Yes Master Bruce.”  
  
Bruce took a deep breath. Now that he had his plan, it was time to man up and take out the Penguin by force. 

LXXIII

After Gordon sent his officers to the correct positions, his mind was in full tactical mode. He wasn’t allowed to think of everything that could go wrong, only what his job was and the safety of those around him.  
  
Gordon takes Officer Edge and Harvey Bullock with him, along with two other officers. Bullock breaks the glass near the handle of the all glass front door and reaches in to unlock it. The door swings open inwards as the four officers charge in followed by Gordon. He sends the other two upstairs while he clears the family room with Edge. The room consists of a very expensive floral print couch with a large flat screen television and multiple gaming systems. However, there were no signs of people.  
  
“All clear in here!” came the voice of Nina Edge in the dining room.  
  
“Kitchen all clear!” Bullock called from the back of the house.  
  
With those three rooms being the only ones on the ground floor, the three officers converged at the bottom of the steps leading up. Above them, the sound of a fight broke out between more than two people. The sound of glass shattering and fist hitting solid muscle reverberated down the steps to the ears of the waiting Commissioner. He quickly bolted up the steps toward the sound of the commotion with Bullock and Edge thundering up behind him.  
  
When he reached the top of the steps, the all clear call from the other two officers carried down the hallway. In the first room to the right which overlooked the culdesac, Mario Falcone and Salvatore Maroni sat handcuffed to the legs of a California King Bed. On the bed sat a suitcase which was overflowing with random clothing items. Near the bedside table was a shattered reading lamp which had to be the sound of the broken glass. Gordon looks at the two officers, one of which had a gash that was oozing blood down his face.  
  
“Head on downstairs you two. Great work. And you; get cleaned up.” Gordon says as he shakes the hands of the arresting officers.  
  
He then looks down at Carmine Falcone sitting at the foot of the bed. His usual smug look was gone off of his face and in its place was despair and defeat.  
  
“We got you now you son of a bitch.” Gordon says to him, putting every ounce of hate for the man he had into his words.  
  
From behind Gordon, the sound of a pistol being readied to fire his heard. Gordon turns around to see the standard issue weapon of Harvey Bullock pointed directly between his eyes. From the foot of the bed, Carmine begins to laugh.  
  
“Guess the police department isn’t as clean as you once thought, huh Commissioner?”  
  
“Harvey, what are you doing? You’ve been one of my best cops, why you?”  
  
Bullock laughed at the plea from Gordon.  
  
“Come on James. You’ve lost. Do you really think that the Falcones will last long in prison? You think the Batman can come away with Cobblepot? I was hired by them years ago and placed in the G.C.P.D. Gotham is ours now.”  
  
Gordon knew there was no talking his way out of this. He was about to die and everything he had done in this city was for nothing. The mafia had won. He took one more deep breath before he heard the shot that was sure to end his life. 

LXXIV

Bruce grabs the smoke pellets from his tool belt and holds two of them firmly in his hand. He knew that the impact of hitting the floor with any sort of velocity would cause the entire room to be engulfed in smoke. So that’s exactly what Bruce did.  
  
He threw the two smoke pellets at the stage as hard as he could from around the wall. Fortunately he was fast enough and the Penguin didn’t even see him until it was too late. Smoke erupted all around the center stage, thick and billowing up to the ceiling. Bruce heard Cobblepot gasping for air and coughing as the vapor filled his lungs. Now was his time to attack.  
  
Bruce ran through the hallway created by the private rooms. In each section he could see the center stage since the curtains weren’t pulled but he continued to run until he arrived at the wooden door to Cobblepot’s office. Once he arrived at the door, he turned to his left and saw the smoke was beginning to die down in the center of the room.  
  
He quickly tapped into his detective mode which allowed him to see through the dark and the smoke. He could see the penguin still stumbling around in the blackness, and still firing his umbrella randomly at the location Bruce used to be. Through the smoke, Bruce ran up to Oswald Cobblepot without being detected. The smoke was thinning more now but still heavy enough to cause Cobblepot to cough and choke.  
  
Bruce took his boot and placed it in the back of Cobblepot’s right leg, causing him to fall forward on his face. When he did, the umbrella flew one way and his top hat and monocle another. Bruce then twists the ankle of Cobblepot’s right leg much the way it shouldn’t be twisted to a bloodcurdling snap. Knowing he won’t be getting up, Bruce casually picks up the umbrella which had been dropped just a few feet away. He carries it over in front of Cobblepot and looks down. The defeat in his eyes worsened as Bruce snapped the weapon over his thigh like a stick in the backyard.  
  
He also stepped on Cobblepot’s monocle as he walked over to put a pair of his infamous Bat-cuffs around his hands. After he drags the Penguin to the pole used by exotic dancers on the stage he looks down at the helpless being, almost feeling pity. Then he thinks of everything he’d done and all of the people he hurt and the brief ounce of sympathy Bruce felt was immediately thrown out of the window.  
  
As he walks back to the Batmobile, he turns his radio to Gordon’s frequency in hopes of alerting the Commissioner that his job was done.  
  
“Gordon, I don’t know if you’re listening but my end of the bargain is done. You’ll find Cobblepot chained up in the middle of the Iceberg Lounge.”  
  
There was static for a moment and Bruce was concerned that Gordon’s radio transmission might not go through. After a few moments, Gordon’s voice comes through loud and clear.  
  
“I’ll send someone over Batman. We have Falcone. It looks like the mob rules the night no longer.” 

LXXV

The next morning, Nina Edge walks into the office of Police Commissioner James Gordon. It had been a crazy past twenty-four hours but everything that needed to be done had been taken care of. Plus she had saved the life of Gotham’s most beloved police commissioner.  
  
Originally in the mansion of Salvatore Maroni, Nina had gone down with the two officers who had subdued Carmine and Salvatore to administer first aid to the man with the cut. However, halfway down the steps she got a feeling deep in her stomach that something wasn’t right in the room. When she got back there, Harvey Bullock was a few seconds from murdering the commissioner in cold blood. Out of pure instinct, she pulled her weapon and fired in one swift motion, catching Bullock square in the temple, killing him instantly.  
  
“Have a seat, Officer Edge.” Gordon greeted her from behind his desk.  
  
She closed the door and slowly made her way into one of the chairs opposite him. She was not looking forward to this meeting for many reasons. First she killed another police officer while on active duty. Second she used her standard issue weapon to do so. Third she was pretty sure she would go to jail for that, let alone lose her job.  
  
“I wanted to say thank you for saving my life.” Gordon began, leaving Nina confused as to how this conversation would turn.  
  
“My last thoughts were to my wife and kids before I heard the gunshot. But after I opened my eyes, I saw you standing there and Harvey on the floor. While it was worse than a bad dream, it was still real and I’m still here.”  
  
“You’re… Welcome, sir.” Nina stammers out, still very uncertain about the means of this conversation.  
  
“You’re not going to lose your job, Nina. Of course there will have to be an investigation but nothing will come of it. You did the right thing. I’m your witness and will back it up until the end.”  
  
Nina looked around the small, dark office wondering how this would happen. Anyone would be thankful for someone saving their life but it seems Gordon will stop at nothing to make sure she suffers no punishment.  
  
“Thank you sir… I was just very scared to know what was going to happen. I thought I’d for sure lose my job if not face jail time. That’s what I was honestly expecting.”  
Gordon doesn’t respond but picks up a piece of paper on his desk and hands it to her. In the early morning sunlight shining through the window near the chair, she reads the heading of the paper, stops, then rereads the heading again.  
  
“You’re making me Lieutenant?!” She exclaimed after the initial shock had passed.  
  
“Of course I am Nina. You’re more deserving than anyone and obviously, I have no Lieutenant here. Once the investigation is over, you will be officially promoted. It should only take a few days.”  
  
She stands up and shakes his hand, more ecstatic than she’d been in years. If her boss wasn’t in the same room as her, she would be jumping up and down and calling her parents to celebrate.  
  
“Thank you sir. I promise I won’t let you down.” She tells him.  
  
“I know you won’t Nina. Go home and get some rest. We all need it.”  
  
“Oh and congratulations on solving the case!” she calls back when she opens the door to leave.  
  
As Gordon watches her leave his office and go home he turns his attention out of his window. Below him he sees news camera setting up for the press conference. As much as he’d like to take the credit, he has to go tell the city who really stopped the mob that past night.  
  
LXXVI

It’s a snowy afternoon as Bruce and Annie are sitting next to each other on the sofa in the Wayne Manor entertainment room. On the giant television opposite them is a nationally broadcast college football game between the Gotham University Wildcats and the Southern University Stallions. Bruce enjoyed his fair share of college football but that was nothing compared to Annie.  
  
She sat on his sofa with a pair of GU socks, a pair of GU sweatpants that said ‘WILDCATS’ down the left leg, a GU hoodie on top of a Gotham Knights t-shirt (since the Knights play that night as well) and a wool GU hat with matching scarf. Bruce meanwhile had on a pair of black track pants and a Gotham Knights t-shirt on. It was his day to relax.  
  
Just as the game was kicking off, the news station broke in with important news and a press conference from Commissioner Gordon. Annie was furious and even threw a pillow down on the ground too show it. Bruce meanwhile, paid all of his attention to the television where James Gordon had just taken a makeshift podium set up outside of the Gotham City Police Department. The snow was coming down harder than Bruce thought as he wondered why they didn’t move the conference indoors.  
  
“We here are proud to announce that every known crime lord behind the mafia here in Gotham City is now behind bars.” Gordon began his speech which was met with a resounding applause.  
  
“Now as much as I’d like to sit here and take the credit for doing such, sadly I cannot. I have to give 80% of the credit to who most call ‘The Batman’. He is the one who was able to crack the case, got into the mob’s business and capture one of the two heads in charge.”  
  
The crowd was silent and hesitant as Gordon now looked directly into the camera.  
  
“If you’re somehow watching this Batman, thank you.”  
  
From somewhere in the crowd, a question is raised to the commissioner that is met with more cheers from the audience.  
  
“Do you trust him? He’s an outlaw. A vigilante. Why do the police work with him?”  
  
From the look on Gordon’s face, one could tell he had thought about an answer to this question before. With steam coming from his breath, he looks straight at the man who asked the question and gives a rock solid answer.  
  
“I do trust him. He is good for this city. He’s a symbol that us everyday people can go outside at night and not be scared. He can help us. We may not agree at times but that’s how working in tandem is done. To be blunt, he’s here to stay in Gotham so its citizens better get used to it.”  
  
That was the only question Gordon took because the snow came billowing down so hard. When the news camera went back to the studio shot of the anchors, Bruce stopped paying attention. He remains silent on the couch in shock and awe, wrapped up in his thoughts. James Gordon just put his job and reputation on the line to help the Batman; to help him. He’s trying to get the city on the Batman’s good side.  
  
Bruce looked over to Annie on the couch to ask her opinion but knew better once he saw her. She had gotten so frustrated that the game was interrupted on television that she began watching it on her mobile phone. Knowing she’d paid no attention and seemed to lack an opinion on the Batman in general, Bruce left the topic alone and waited for the game to come back on the big screen with a slight smile on his face. 

LXXVII

The following night was one of Gordon’s first nights off in a long time. He was determined not to miss another family meal and desired to spend an evening alone with just his wife and kids.  
  
After dinner, James is sitting on the sofa while his wife Barbara is in the kitchen doing dishes. His sixteen year old daughter whose also named Barbara is playing a video game with her little brother and Gordon’s ten year old son James Jr.. The two are playing a game involving two Italian Plumbers racing in carts around numerous different tracks. Even Gordon had to admit the game could be fun, especially after a few alcoholic beverages.  
  
In the middle of a race, James Jr. pauses the game and looked back at his father with big eyes and an obvious question on his lips.  
  
“So the Batman is really real? You met him? Is he a badass in person too?”  
  
Gordon had to hold in a chuckle at the sound of his ten year old saying badass.  
  
“James, don’t say badass. But yes the Batman is real. I’ve met him and we talk at least once or twice a week. And don’t tell your mother but yes, he is a badass.”  
James Jr. seems satisfied enough with his answer that he turns back towards his video game. Barbara however, is the one with the question now. When she turns around to face her father, her thick glasses get tangled in her long flowing red hair. Eventually after a bit of a struggle, they get untangle and she’s able to ask her father what she wanted to know.  
  
“What about his gadgets and technology? Is that stuff real too? It seems so advanced and well-engineered.”  
  
“Honestly Barb, I don’t know much about his technology. We never discuss anything like that. It’s strictly business and then we’re done. There’s no chit-chatting with the guy.”  
  
As the kids go back to playing their kart game satisfied, Gordon thinks to himself about the Batman. His kids seem to find him interesting. His wife doesn’t like him much but that will change in time. It might not be an immediate effect but Gordon truly believes the Batman is what is best for this city right now. 

  


LXXVIII

Bruce Wayne, Annie Ellington, and Alfred Pennyworth are all standing in the foyer of Wayne Manor. In front of them is a massive Christmas tree that Annie had forced Bruce to put up. She told him that if they were together, he had to at least fake like he enjoyed the holidays, which obviously seemed to work since a Christmas tree now stood in his mansion.  
  
“We used to do this every day after Thanksgiving when Master Bruce was a kid before the accident.” Alfred told Annie as all three of them tried to find open room for ornaments on the tree.  
  
Annie was saddened by this news and didn’t know what to say. She awkwardly took a drink of eggnog and pulled out another box from the storage container resting on a chair. Inside of it was a huge Gotham Knights crest that lit up black and gold. The tree-topper to the Wayne Manor tree. She grabs a glass of eggnog and the box and takes it over to Bruce, who was almost entirely behind the tree looking for an open spot for an ornament. When Bruce sees it, he lets out a tiny smile and accepts both things gratefully.  
  
As he pulled the topper out of the box, Alfred went and got a short step ladder and set it up for Bruce to climb. When it’s placed, he admires the topper and looks down at Annie’s smiling face. If he had to bet money on it, he would reckon Alfred was smiling as well.  
  
“You know what Annie?” Bruce calls from the top of the ladder.  
  
“Why don’t you invite your parents over here on Christmas day? Alfred and I will do the cooking. You’ll finally be able to meet Dick who I’ve told you about. It will be a fun.”  
  
“I think it’s a great idea too Ms. Ellington. Some company would be great for Bruce on his first holiday back.” Alfred whispered in her ear.  
  
“I do want to meet Dick!” She called back.  
  
“I’ll go call my parents right now. I think it will be a great time Bruce!” She said as she left to go fetch her cell phone.  
  
For the first time in nearly nineteen years, Bruce will have real company to spend Christmas day with. 

LXXIX

Oswald Cobblepot and Carmine Falcone share a cell next to each other in Blackgate prison. They rarely see each other but they speak to each other just about every night after their cell mates and guards have fallen asleep.  
  
“Why didn’t we go to Arkham?” Carmine asks through his bars one night about a week after they were arrested.  
  
“Arkham is for the mentally insane criminals. We’re not mentally insane; just criminals.”  
  
Cobblepot looks behind him to make sure his cell mate is sleeping then looks up and down the cellblock to ensure there are no guards making their rounds of patrol. When the coast is clear, he tells Carmine some news he would like to hear.  
  
“Don’t worry too much Carmine. We won’t be in here long.”  
  
Confused, Carmine stands up in his orange prison suit and walks to his bars, trying to glimpse a view of Cobblepot’s beaked nose.  
  
“We weren’t the only one who hired the assassin. I heard him talking to someone outside my office one day. I don’t know who else he’s working for but according to them, something big is going down on New Year’s Eve.” 

LXXX

“Alfred, you are not supposed to be working right now! It’s Christmas! If we need those dishes we can wash them ourselves!” Bruce yells at Alfred as he picked up a sponge in the sink.  
  
Alfred allows himself a smirk then playfully throws the sponge at Bruce, telling him to wash something for a change. He, Bruce, Annie, Troy and Shirley are all crowding the kitchen of Wayne Manor. Each of them are preparing a special dish for Christmas dinner. That was Bruce’s one rule for having everyone over: everyone has to make their favorite dish.  
  
Annie was helping her mother prepare green bean casserole. Annie had already made her dish which was three different types of cookies: Snicker doodle, Gingerbread and Oatmeal Raisin. Alfred had made his English version of Roast Beef as well as a Christmas pudding which was a desert that consisted of dried fruit and molasses along with a nice brandy.  
  
Upon arrival, Troy told Bruce that Shirley doesn’t allow him to cook. However, he brought three bottles of homemade wine and a hearty amount of his home brewed wheat beer.  
  
While all the food is cooking, the clock strikes noon and Alfred and Troy open up a bottle of wine. Once everyone had a glass in hand they toasted to each other and to a long healthy life. Annie disappeared for a moment and Bruce assumed it was just for the restroom. While she’s gone, Bruce looks at the oven and sees that an hour is needed until dinner will be ready.  
  
“What do you guys say to opening presents while we wait for dinner to finish up?” Bruce asks the crowd of people in his kitchen.  
  
The general consensus was “Who wouldn’t want to open presents?” so the all walked out into the foyer and a few feet to the giant Christmas tree. Bruce was the last one to leave the kitchen and as he did, he felt a tug on his hand. He turned around and found Annie with one of her hands in his and another behind her back.  
  
“Close your eyes.” She tells him and he does so.  
  
Bruce then feels something being placed on his head and the touch of Annie’s soft lips on his cheek.  
  
“Merry Christmas.” She tells him as he opens his eyes.  
  
In the reflection of a frying pan on the counter, Bruce sees he now dons a black and gold Gotham Knights Santa hat on his head. Annie laughs as Bruce tells her thanks and grabs her hand to lead her to the tree.  
  
When they arrive there, Troy makes a remark about Bruce having a nice hat and they both laugh and clink half empty wine glasses. Alfred emerges from under the tree like Santa Clause and hands each person one gift. When he gives Annie her package, she gives him an envelope in return. They all make him open the envelope first and he does so with a smile on his face.  
  
“They’re vacation days I made on the computer. There are thirty in there. Whenever you don’t want to work just call me and I’ll come over and do it or at least help. But usually only on weekends because Bruce probably won’t let me off at work.” Annie explains to Alfred who looks awestruck at the present in his hand.  
  
“I like her a lot, Master Wayne! She’s a keeper for sure!” Alfred tells Bruce, causing everyone to erupt in laughter.  
  
Through the noise, Bruce hears something he didn’t expect to hear for at least another few hours; Dicks motorcycle. With excitement running through Bruce’s body, he grabs Annie’s hand and sprints to the door. The great front door to Wayne Manor is open before Dick is even off of his bike. The snow is falling harder by the hour as some of it begins to fly into the foyer. Through the white out Bruce can see Dick is running up the steps as fast as possible and looks to be rattled. Something isn’t right.  
  
When he gets to the top of the steps where Bruce and Annie are standing, Dick doesn’t even greet them. He catches his breath in his red and yellow motorcycle suit then begins his desperate plea with his foster father Bruce Wayne.  
  
“Bruce, I need your help. Someone is hunting the titans one by one. He killed Arsenal. He captured Cyborg. He came for me but I was able to fight him off. He wore a black and orange suit of armor. It had a matching mask too but only half of it was covered with some sort of metallic mesh. It came off in the fight. He grabbed it and got away but I saw his face before he left. He had grey hair and an eye patch covering his left eye. Please Bruce. Help me.” 

 

 

 

Epilogue

 

 

New Year’s Eve was always a fun night to celebrate in Gotham City. Every year, tens of thousands of people would gather around the Gotham National Bank and watch a disco ball be dropped from one of the highest points in the city. The snow had subsided enough to make the evening tolerably cold, especially since the wind had stopped blowing. If you were cold, the theory was to just huddle up with your significant other and feel their embrace when the clock brought in the New Year.  
  
As the massive crowd began the countdown from ten, each number got louder in volume as the ball came closer to the ground.  
  
Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four.  
  
Three.  
  
Two.  
  
One.  
  
Fireworks shot from numerous buildings surrounding the square of people. Yells and cheers roared through the city louder than cannon fire. Next to the crowd, Gotham National Bank lit up in a burst of flames.  
  
Explosions rang out as fire shot from the roof and windows of the coveted government building. Money from the bank that was set ablaze in the blasts rained down on the onlookers like the snow had done in Gotham for the past month. No one paid any attention to the man standing on the disco ball in the middle of the crowd until he started to speak with a megaphone.  
  
He was a man of average height in about his mid to late twenties. He wore all black pants and black shoes. His hoodie was also black and the hood was pulled over his head. Covering his face looked to be a mask made of porcelain white that resembled a blank look. On his hoodie was a red circle with a large letter A in the middle. Pulling the megaphone to his mouth behind the mask, the man spoke to the citizens of Gotham City.  
  
“The time is now fellow citizens, for Gotham to be purged of corruption. It’s time for the 1% to know how the rest of us struggle to survive while their pockets get padded. It’s time to rise up, shout out and believe. Friends, it is time for anarchy in the streets of Gotham.” 

  


 

 

Coming Summer 2014

Robin

 

Coming Autumn/Winter 2014

Knight Terrors


End file.
